


oscillating compass

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim AU, Angst, Dealing with PTSD, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Found Family, Kim Youngjo is here, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Violence, other pairings will be tagged as they happen!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: It’s been five years since the Battle of the Breach and the failed attempt to seal it. Despite the damage given, kaiju are still crossing over. A new team of Rangers, known as Project Aurora, have been preparing for the day they may finally take it down. Only problem? Someone is attempting to sabotage their Jaegers before they even have a chance. A young Pilot, carrying the weight of war upon him, is sent to become part of the team. He is an outsider, but he brings spirit, and he may be the key to saving the human race.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 35
Kudos: 79





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> decided to finally finish up chapter one of this angsty mess, so welcome to the start of my pacrim au! I am so sorry!
> 
> this is a partial rewrite of another fic of mine, so if it seems familiar, that's why! I suck at updates and have no proper schedule, but I predict this au to be about 10-15 chapters long?? idk we'll see as we go! this is mostly start-up / establishing things for now! I've taken and bent quite a bit of lore for this so I apologize if things seem a lil weird; it's just me putting my own spin on things!
> 
> just for reference, birth years are different in this au; 2006, 2007, and 2008 since we're following sorta canon timeline!
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy!!

_ The world we grew up in did not allow room for normal. To survive, you had to adapt, and that is exactly what we did. _

—————— xxx —————

The sound of the helicopter was overwhelming, whirring in his eardrums and drowning out all other noise. Luckily for those upon the aircraft, no one seemed up for chatter anyway. It was evident in how their eyes sought out anything but each other to focus on. They were content to stare at the frothing ocean below, the depths containing remnants of history in the form of machine parts and monsters ready to swallow you up with no remorse.

Clutching a tattered old leather bag in his lap, the man known as Park Seonghwa did the same. His expression was blank but his mind matched the turmoil of the waters passing in a blur. At that moment, the once carefully constructed web of puzzle pieces of his life were shifting, now slotting misshapen amongst each other. He was a Jaeger Pilot, someone trained to fight against the monsters parents often employed to quell their rowdy children at night. Using machines that towered over mere humans, made of gleaming metal and powered by amazing energies, Jaeger Pilots battled massive creatures from another realm far beyond their own.

They were known as kaiju, and regardless of how young or old you were, you knew they were dangerous.

Pouring from the Breach, mankind had spent many long, exhausting years fighting the alien creatures. They had suffered losses beyond imagination, but so had the kaiju. Jaeger Pilots were forced to train hard in short amounts of time, stretching their resources thin and their psyches thinner. Kaiju were formidable, and the amount of Pilots equipped to fight them dwindled with each passing month. 

Life was at a stalemate in war, but the humans forced to evolve into their new everyday were not.

It had been nearly five years since the Battle of the Breach. FIve years since the failure of Operation Pitfall. Five years since humanity began to lose the last shred of hope it had. But the animalistic need for survival surged forth, and the remaining members of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps rallied together. They plotted and they planned, and soon an idea was hatched. 

Thus, Project Aurora began life in Hong Kong. An elite organization only the best of the best could join—the last attempt to save humanity. A program meant to train the sharpest of minds for a line of Jaegers in production, where only those who were truly committed to sacrificing their own self if it came to it were accepted. Humanity was given a reason to hope once more.

The Breach was not destroyed, but it was damaged. Kaiju were limited in their time to cross onto Earth, and could only seem to emerge one at a time. Though the attacks had been shortened considerably, one kaiju every two weeks was still taking a toll on the active Jaegers and what few Pilots remained. Even with three more in production, the human race was quickly realizing their disadvantage compared to their enemies.

Seonghwa had been born in South Korea, but his family had moved to Japan when he had been barely two years old. Japan quickly became a hotspot zone for kaiju attacks, something his parents never could have predicted, and thus Seonghwa was forced to grow up quickly; most kids needed to nowadays. His mind was sharp and his movements sharper; it was really no surprise he constantly received top marks no matter what he participated in. Seonghwa quickly rose to the top of his class and, upon graduation, was stationed in Nagasaki as a full time Pilot. Being a Ranger was a dangerous job but it was one he had been deadset upon from the moment he could understand why his mother was crying late into the night—and it was a job he did really, really well.

So why was he on a helicopter, heading away from the only home he had ever known?

The  _ dangerous _ part of being a Jaeger Pilot had crept up on him. Seonghwa still didn’t know if they’d grown too complacent in their abilities, or perhaps their Jaeger malfunctioned; there had been no way to check. Then again, it was hard to know what caused an error when your Jaeger was, quite literally, torn to pieces.

He had lost both his Jaeger and his partner of five years to a kaiju attack. Further still, he lost his confidence, and with no Jaeger and no partner, what use was he? 

Apparently he had enough of one to garner the attention of Hong Kong’s Shatterdome.

His skills in combat had been noticed by the Fightmaster there, and word had been given to the Marshal. It resulted in an invitation to the exclusive Project Aurora. There was no time to wallow in sorrow over what he’d lost, and in a perfect world, Seonghwa could’ve retired, but their world was far from normal. In their world, parents buried children and the wicked profited from the kaiju they felled. It was cruel, but it was life.

Needless to say, Seonghwa had accepted the offer.

_ The change will be good for you, _ his Marshal had said.  _ You’re top of your class and the most skilled Ranger in this Shatterdome; you’ll fit right in. _

It wasn’t all about a change of pace though; it was also a change of scenery. His Marshal knew he couldn’t handle entering a dark room devoid of his partner’s laughter. Not when the constant feeling of fear and pain scraped through his mind completely unwarranted, Seonghwa reliving every emotion his Co-Pilot did when he was thrown into the ocean like little more than a ragdoll. Not when the subtle  _ help me _ replayed in his ears over and over and over again no matter how loud he cranked up his music. It was no surprise he jumped on the chance to leave.

Thus, Seonghwa found himself seated on a helicopter, watching the waves pass by in the most boring game of ISpy he had ever played. None of them had really spoken before boarding the aircraft and, truthfully, Seonghwa recognized none of them. They were other people relocating to Hong Kong for various reasons that day. Three of them to be exact, not Rangers but still equally important to their cause. Today was not a day he felt like being social so he was grateful for their disinterest as well.

Despite all of the noise and activity of his morning, his mind sat strangely empty. The breaking of a Drift in such a traumatic way had its side effects, but Seonghwa had never expected it to be so … lonely. He hadn’t tried Drifting with anyone since then and honestly had no idea if ever could—or even wanted to—again. He had a feeling those questions would be answered with the rest of the people under Project Aurora, however.

Clutching his music player tightly in hand, he glanced up as the Shatterdome loomed into view. His attention was fully captured by the sight of his new home. It was truly a formidable fortress, even as a tiny dot on the horizon. Nagasaki’s Shatterdome was small in comparison and Seonghwa had to admit, he grew more intimidated the closer they got. TIme seemed to speed up then. The rest of the ride caused the pit of anxiety in his stomach to swell the closer they drew. Hovering over the landing areas, Seonghwa could see plenty of personnel hurrying every which way. They were like ants exposed to sunlight for the first time in weeks, the sheer amount of people tripled compared to Nagasaki, but when you had a total of seven Jaegers in your hangar, it made sense. More to maintain, more at stake.

As the helicopter descended upon the platform, Seonghwa shut off his music and stuffed it back into his pocket. His fears settled the closer he drew to the ground, replaced with excitement at the prospect of a new home. Seonghwa had never particularly enjoyed flying so he was relieved to finally be released from the whirring buzz of the helicopter. Clutching his bag to his chest, the Ranger took his first steps into his new home. Behind him, the aircraft slowly spun to a halt.

Standing a few feet away, Seonghwa spotted two people at attention. They were both dressed in the basic Ranger uniform. They were about the same height, the one on the left having dark black hair. The one on the right had a lighter shade of brown, features bright despite the gravity of where he was standing. Four clusters of people greeted them, giving clue to their objective of greeting, and Seonghwa watched his travel partners split off to meet their own departments. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and advanced towards the duo waiting for him.

By the time he reached them the helicopter had fallen silent. Gentle waves, distant seagulls, and the bustle of footsteps on metal blended together around him. Much, much better.

As he approached, the left man raised a hand into a mini wave. “Yo! Welcome to Hong Kong’s Shatterdome. You must be Seonghwa?”

After the three of them exchanged quick handshakes, he nodded. “Park Seonghwa, reporting for duty. You’re … San and Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung, the brown-haired one on the left, smiled in response. He nudged San with his elbow. “See, I told you he’d know who we were. You’re too famous  _ not _ to be known!”

“Hey, he recognized you too!” San nudged him back before giving his full attention to Seonghwa. “Yep, we’re San and Wooyoung. Pilots of Candor Sunrise, at your service. We’ve been assigned to show you around and help you get settled.”

Seonghwa smiled softly. If people didn’t know Candor Sunrise and those who Piloted her, they were willfully ignorant. San was the son of one of the best Rangers who ever lived, a man who dedicated his life for early experiments with Mark-1 Jaegers. He’d never allowed himself to be babied, and he had never asked for handouts; the boy was a natural Pilot from the moment he could walk. Wooyoung came from a life of trauma, losing his father and sister to an attack; it had been his mother who convinced him to attempt great things. The duo met for the first time at a bunker deep within South Korea, San’s family taking him in until Wooyoung had located his mother again. Their connection was so strong that not a single soul dared to doubt their aptitude. They were a force to be reckoned with, and not one you wished to be on the sour end of.

“I’m glad to be here. Can’t wait to see Candor Sunrise in person.”

Wooyoung motioned for him to follow, and the trio set off towards the bay doors. “You’ll be seeing everyone we have housed here today, including the Jaeger that may become yours in the future. Cerulean Reverie is gorgeous; you’ll love him.”

Cerulean Reverie was a newer model. The Jaeger had only been deployed into the field twice, and both times he had performed amazingly. The only problem lied in that his main Ranger … wasn’t exactly that friendly—and he was bad at Drifting. Which was, for Jaeger Pilots, absolutely essential to Piloting them in the first place.

Seonghwa hadn’t met him before, of course, but knowing he would need to attempt to form some kind of bond with Cerulean Reverie’s current Ranger made his stomach twist. Unfriendly, brash, bold, and loud was everything he wasn’t.

The first Jaeger he seen upon entering the hangar was one he knew well. Silver Beacon, a non-Aurora Jaeger—Mark-3 and the last of its kind still operational. Another beautiful machine that many all over the world admired. San pointed it out as they passed.

“This here is Midnight Ethereal; you’ll meet its Rangers later. Across the way,” Wooyoung pointed to the opposite wall, “Is Horizon Six. These two are also part of Project Aurora so you’ll be seeing and interacting with their Rangers often.”

“They’re all kinda weird. The Pilots I mean, but can you really be a Ranger if you’re not?” San said with a wink, before continuing down their path. “Over here we have Grey Whirlwind and Sanguine Omega; they aren’t part of the project but you’ll still meet everyone at some point, so best to get a vague idea now.”

Seonghwa didn’t need to be told who the final two were.

Candor Sunrise matched her namesake, a sleek mass of blood-red metal and accentuated with orange accents. Candor was sharper in design than most other Jaegers, attributed to by her existence as a Mark-7. Though not the most recently built mech, she was still fairly new in the grand scheme of the war, her gleaming body lacking the usual wear and tear.

Candor was pretty, but turning to observe Cerulean Reverie took his breath away.

San and Wooyoung came to a halt but Seonghwa took several more steps forward. The Jaeger was absolutely massive, body a deep midnight blue. Cerulean’s accents were the same as its namesake, bright and vibrant against the darker color, offset by silver interwoven that caught the overhead lights just right—it was  _ gorgeous. _ Wooyoung wasn’t lying in the slightest. All he could manage was a soft  _ wow. _

San placed a hand on his shoulder, coming to stand next to him. “Told you so. Cerulean is even better to Pilot.”

Seonghwa felt a rumble of determination renew in his chest. “I can’t wait.”

Wooyoung them on the opposite side. “Well, you’ll have to make it over that obstacle first.” The Ranger pointed in a direction and Seonghwa allowed his eyes to follow. 

Leaning against Cerulean’s foot, attention completely off the trio of onlookers, was a short man with black hair. So far away, Seonghwa couldn’t make out any other details aside from the leather jacket ipon his upper half. From Wooyoung’s words alone though he could hazard a guess at who it was; Cerulean’s main Ranger. As if on cue, the Ranger looked over at the three of them. He pushed off the mech and rolled his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets. Seonghwa swallowed as he began to approach them.

Something about him just seemed so intimidating, the aura surrounding his body dark and unfriendly. As he drew closer, Seonghwa could see the silver gleam of metal in both of his ears, counting a total of seven. A matching necklace clinked gently against his chest and an unreadable expression was pasted onto his features. In a different world, he’d most definitely be classified as the ‘bad boy’ type.

He came to a halt before them, much shorter than Seonghwa and forcing him to lower his eyes. His eyes sized up Seonghwa with subtle flicks here and there, a quiet standoff spanning between them. It truthfully startled him when he spoke. “You’re the new guy, yeah? Don’t bother telling me your name; my potential Drift Partners aren’t around long enough to care.” His lips curled into a semblance of a smirk. “Try not to die though, yeah?” Then he swerved around their bodies, continuing on his way.

Seonghwa was so caught off guard that he couldn’t find a voice to answer him with.

Once he was out of earshot, San turned his attention back to Seonghwa. “Don’t let him get to you. His name’s Hongjoong, and he’s like that to all new recruits.”

Oh, he knew about Hongjoong. His file and the intent to pair them up had been sent over long before he’d set out for Hong Kong. Part of Aurora and with an attitude to rival a volcano, Hongjoong had only successfully Drifted with one person. It didn’t take long for them to become fed up with his personality, however, and the other Pilot left quickly. Hongjoong was in danger of losing his rights as Cerulean Reverie’s dominate Pilot if he couldn’t get his act together and learn to properly Drift with someone soon. Seonghwa had been told all of this and been warned of just how abrasive he could be, while also being informed he would most likely take over as dominate Pilot if they failed to make a connection. Hongjoong wanted to be a Pilot, that much was evident, but there was no room for someone who could not properly Drift with anyone; Jaegers were not meant to be prop pieces. Not when the world was in danger of falling apart at any moment.

The words Seonghwa had uttered left a bad taste in his mouth, but Seonghwa couldn’t deny his curiosity over why the other Ranger couldn’t properly Drift.

He was determined to be the one to find out.

“Don’t worry,” he assured them, “I think it’ll be a fun challenge.” Seonghwa turned, eyes following Hongjoong until he reached the doors leading to the dorms. The shorter man turned, their gazes meeting across the hanger; Seonghwa felt a new fire ignite within him.

—————— xxx —————

“It’s impossible for us to get close! We need to call in backup!”

Jehyun’s mind was lined with fear, something Seonghwa was not used to feeling from his partner. He grit his teeth but did not answer, his own mind racing as it struggled to find a solution to the corner they had been backed into. The kaiju, codename Catsith, made close combat absolute hell. They needed a long range Jaeger to stand up to the monster lest they wanted to become another batch of names on a gravestone.

“If we wait for backup, it won’t get here in time! We have to protect the city!” Seonghwa steadied their stance, taking a shaky breath. “We need to at least hold it off. It absolutely cannot reach land.”

“I know that, I know that!” Jehyun’s voice was as unsteady as Seonghwa’s breathing. 

In the distance, the kaiju bellowed in anger and unexpectedly charged.

They reacted just quick enough, dodging to the left. Polar Four’s battered body creaked in protest at the all too sharp movement. Catsith was impossibly fast for their Jaeger’s slower reaction speed to keep up with and it was taking a toll.

As the dominant Ranger, Seonghwa had to make a decision … and it ended up being the wrong one. Feigning to the right, Polar Four surged up towards Catsith’s flank, but the kaiju anticipated the movement. A clawed hand caught their oncoming punch, their right fist, and squeezed. Seonghwa attempted to yank his arm back to no avail. The kaiju roared in their face, ear-splitting, before its jaws crunched at the metal of Polar Four’s body. Jehyun punched at the creature’s head but it was in vain.

Catsith pushed off the ocean floor, sending Polar Four’s body backwards into the waters below. They had enough time to rise up again, Seonghwa’s heart becoming encapsulated in fear as he examined his destroyed arm. Seconds passed, much too long of a time to wait, before Catsith descended upon the wounded Jaeger. Teeth sank into the left side of Polar Four’s head, tearing through the metal like paper. A rush of freezing ocean air flooded the compartment and Jehyun made a weak attempt to grasp the kaiju’s head, trying to force it free.

The action wasn’t enough.

Catsith reached a terribly crooked hand into Polar Four’s head and tore Jehyun from his control, Seonghwa watching in helpless horror. Jehyun screamed, and he felt his mind flood with pain and the rawest form of terror he had ever experienced. The kaiju, uncaring of the life it held within its claws, tossed his partner into the depths of the sea. Seonghwa screeched as the worst feeling he’d ever experienced flooded every corner of his body; Jehyun had died while they were still Drifting.

Catsith roared its victory into the night, smacking Polar Four with enough force to send the Jaeger flying. The Category Four Kaiju approached one final time, Seonghwa watching in abject horror as it drew ever near. From deep within his chest, Seonghwa roared in newfound determination, tears streaming down his face. Powering through the pain of controlling Polar Four on his own, he drew back his left arm and swung—

Seonghwa shot up in bed, heart beating dangerously fast in his chest. It took a few moments of labored breath for him to realize it had been a nightmare. A nightmare that always reignited the pain and fear and every single emotion of that night, right up until Jehyun hit the water, his life being stolen from his and the emptiness that swallowed him up afterwards.

Seonghwa could call and call, but Jehyun would never answer again.

Shoving his face into his hands, he scrubbed at it and sighed tiredly. It was safe to say he wouldn’t be sleeping again anytime soon. Seonghwa pushed himself from the bed and fished around the dark floor for his pants. Fresh air and a walk would be the only things capable of calming him down then.

Snatching his phone from the dresser, he headed out into the dimly lighted hallway and began his journey. Outside was colder than he was used to, the air in the hallway crisp against his face. The space held an unnatural quiet to it given the amount of people it harbored. Despite not knowing the surrounding area that well yet, Seonghwa still managed to navigate into the bay area. It was empty aside from the guards near the main door and held a silence akin to the one in his mind.

Seonghwa released a small sigh and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. His feet carried him towards the impressive height of Cerulean Reverie. Part of him still couldn’t believe he was being offered a chance to Pilot him so soon after his … incident, but there was no time to rest in war.

As he approached Cerulean, he spotted the silhouette of a person slide down from the Jaeger’s foot. Why someone would be doing maintenance this late at night was beyond him, but there were plenty of things the Hong Kong crew did differently. He eyed the silhouette’s general area but they didn’t appear to notice him. Seonghwa could barely make out tools being shoved into a bag and shrugged. Apparently they took emergency maintenance seriously here. No matter; he continued on his way.

His feet came to a halt yet again as he reached the base of Cerulean, tilting his head back to observe the majestic Jaeger. The lighting upon it was soft but it was more than enough to make the markings glow; Cerulean looked even more gorgeous. Despite the obstacle hanging so obviously in front of him, and the fears he harbored deep within, Seonghwa honestly felt … excited; he truthfully couldn’t wait for a chance to pilot Cerulean.

Spending a little more time admiring the Jaeger, Seonghwa’s nerves began to calm. He wasn’t sure what the future would hold, or if he could ever truly face his past, but there was one thing he knew for certain.

Park Seonghwa was not a quitter.

—————— xxx —————

The next morning brought a whole new array of personalities into Seonghwa’s life. They were relationships that, unknown to him at the time, would formulate one of the strongest sets of emotional connections he’d ever experience.

His adventure for the day began at breakfast, eyes still sticky from sleep and bowl of what he had convinced himself was cereal only half-eaten. San and Wooyoung had arrived at the same time as him and were sitting on the opposite side of the cafeteria table, chatting away while Seonghwa attempted to raise himself from the threads of exhaustion. Yet, coffee still wasn’t enough for the amount of energy coming their way.

Two strangers, dressed in training outfits, plopped down on the bench to his left. Seonghwa’s attention turned upon the new presence while San greeted them with a cheerful morning call. The one immediately to his left had bright red hair and a very soft face, a silver piercing in his lower lip; he was smiling. Beside him, though partially obscured, sat a short man with blond hair and an expression as tired as Seonghwa felt. He too looked ready to murder for coffee; thankfully he was already clutching a cup of it in his hands.

“You must be the new arrival! Seonghwa, right?”

Not really paying attention, the sudden voice caught him off guard. He blinked at the red-haired stranger for a moment or two as his brain struggled to catch up. “Uh … yeah. That’s me.”

The other man chuckled. “I can tell you’re not a morning person either.” He nudged his companion with his elbow, getting a displeased grunt in response. “The name’s Mingi, and this here is Yeosang! We’re the Pilots of Midnight Ethereal.”

“You’ll get used to his energy,” Yeosang mumbled. “I had to.”

He didn’t have time to respond before Mingi whipped his head around, attention fully captured by Yeosang. “You say that like it’s a bad thing! People love my energy!”

“Not so early in the morning.” Yeosang took a long drink of his coffee; Seonghwa mirrored him.

On the other side of the table, San was smiling and Wooyoung giggled softly. “As energetic as always, Mingi,” Wooyoung teased. He picked idly at his fruit.

“You would think he gets quiet during sleep though, right? Wrong. He talks even when he’s  _ asleep _ .” Yeosang shoved a bite of oatmeal into his mouth.

Mingi whined beside him, and the pair got into an argument that couldn’t really be considered an argument. It just basic friendly bickering. Seonghwa smiled behind his cup of coffee; it reminded him of Jehyun. He finished the liquid off and shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. By that point, Mingi’s attention had swiveled back to him, and Seonghwa paused in his chewing as he realized eyes were upon him. Everyone seemed to be waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t been listening to; he swallowed and collected himself.

“Sorry, I was kinda lost in my own world. What was the question?”

Wooyoung waved his hand, that soft smile never leaving his face. “Not really a question! We’re just wondering if you’re ready for today.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m ready.” Seonghwa offered a reassuring smile at the skeptical look. “I work better tired, honest.”

Mingi nudged Yeosang again, earning another harsh side-eye. “Yeosang’s the same way. He seems grumpy right now but I swear he’s not always like this.”

“I’m not grumpy, I’m just not a morning person. Especially with your snoring.”

“Hey, I don’t snore!”

“Yeah you do! You’re louder than one footfall of a Jaeger!”

Mingi launched into a series of whining complaints and Seonghwa just laughed quietly. The duo continued to bicker, with an occasional comment from San or Wooyoung, and Seonghwa realized he had missed the sense of community that came with it. Despite the heavy weight around them, they still found a reason to laugh, a reason to smile, and he partially understood why Project Aurora was a successful program. They were like a mini family, and though he felt a little out of place right then, he had a feeling they wouldn’t allow him to remain like that for long.

Once breakfast was over, the entire group headed off for the training rooms. Seonghwa learned almost immediately that Mingi wasn’t just a ball of bright energy. It turned out Mingi was the son of the Fightmaster originally interested in Seonghwa, and he was a completely different person when sparring. He’d been raised fighting from the moment he could stand on his own. For Mingi, it was as natural as breathing.

Seonghwa wasn’t required to begin his search for a Drift Partner until tomorrow, when he finally got the chance to speak with Hong Kong’s Marshal, but it wouldn’t hurt to get an idea of everyone’s training and fighting styles. Time happened to be important to their new age lifestyle so why waste it taking a break that would only serve to direct his thoughts towards things better left alone for the moment. It only took ten minutes of observation before he was invited to spar. Mingi seemed eager to test him, eyes holding a completely different fire than in the cafeteria; his smirk chased away every bit of childlike innocence.

What was Seonghwa going to do, say no?

Dropping his shoulders, Seonghwa made his way into the center of the ring. The crowd around them fell silent. Just beyond Mingi stood Yeosang, who was apparently just as curious as his partner. He looked more lively now, itching with energy and foot tapping on the training room floor.

He lowered his stance into a ready pose, Mingi mirroring him. Time seemed to stretch onward as they eyed each other, both attempting to figure out who would make the first move. Ultimately, Mingi accepted the offer. He darted forward with surprising swiftness, taking a swing for Seonghwa’s neck. The latter spun out of the way, sweeping his leg out. This move was anticipated, however, and Mingi caught his ankle in one hand. He knocked Seonghwa back, the latter grunting in response, but there was no time to waste. Rolling to the right, he broke his ankle free and slammed his palms flat on the floor. Seonghwa swung his body violently to his feet, regaining his balance just as Mingi made another run towards him.

This time, Seonghwa was ready, feigning to the left and catching Mingi’s arm in a firm grip. He twisted it against the taller man’s back and used his free hand to grasp the other Ranger by the back of the neck. A collective gasp escaped their onlookers.

“Wow, no wonder you were invited to Aurora. I’m impressed.”

Seonghwa smirked and let him go. Mingi massaged at his shoulder and turned to face him. Yeosang came to stand beside him as several small claps echoed throughout the room; it soon turned into various chatter.

“I was one of Nagasaki’s best Rangers. Can’t do that with no skills.” The praise, coming from the son of one of the greatest Fightmasters, made his chest swell with pride.

“You move lightly. I think you’ll fit in here just fine,” Yeosang said, folding his arms across his chest. 

Mingi patted his shoulder, grinning. “Stop acting all  _ cool _ and  _ mysterious. _ You don’t fit either of those words!”

Yeosang side-eyed him. “You don’t either!”

“I never said I did!” The two began bickering, but Seonghwa had quit paying attention. His eyes had wandered to the far wall, through the sea of other trainees, to the man propped against the wall. With an uninterested expression and crossed arms, it honestly surprised him that he was there in the first place, but Seonghwa spotted him immediately. Hongjoong was hard to miss. 

Sensing Seonghwa’s shift in attention, Mingi and Yeosang’s arguing fizzled off. They followed his eyes and spotted the fellow Ranger. At the realization they were all looking at him, Hongjoong sighed and pushed off the wall. The trainees parted as he nudged his way through them; his attention was one hundred percent focused on Seonghwa. It felt like that gaze was burning a hole right through him.

Though shorter, Hongjoong’s energy projected him as someone much, much bigger; he commanded the room in a way Seonghwa had never seen. He had yet to know if that was through unpleasant personality or mere respect but he felt the time to learn was upon him. The man came to a stop before him, dark eyes raising to meet Seonghwa’s own, and the two regarded one another in guarded silence.

Eventually, Hongjoong extended a hand; he didn’t break eye contact. “Spar with me.”

Seonghwa exhaled. He eyed Hongjoong’s hand, trying to determine if this was a trap, but could come up with no reason as to why. Finally, he took Hongjoong’s hand within his own and gave it a slight shake. “Sounds like fun,” he replied, voice low.

Yeosang whistled and sauntered away, an excited Mingi trailing behind him. Baited silence washed over the training room following Seonghwa’s acceptance. They backed away from one another, never breaking eye contact, and sank into position with fluid ease. Seonghwa steadied his breathing and ran through various stances and moves in his mind. Something about Hongjoong projected as dark and deadly; he was a wildcard among the dealt hand before him. 

This time, Seonghwa attacked first. He swept his arm towards Hongjoong, meaning to catch him in the chest, but the Ranger crossed his arms before the move could land. Seonghwa struck there, adrenaline sparking within; Hongjoong wasn’t the type to run away.

A punch sailed in his direction, Seonghwa ducking out of the way just in time. He dodged to the right as another quickly followed, Seonghwa and Hongjoong repeating that pattern for a total of eight times. (Yes, he counted.) Needing a break from constant backwards motion, Seonghwa darted below the ninth punch and slid in one fluid motion behind him; he swept Hongjoong’s legs out from under him in the process, forcing him to his knees.

Hongjoong rose, hands curling into fists, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

The next five minutes devolved into swing after swing in Seonghwa’s direction, the latter always avoiding just in time or managing to block. Hongjoong ended up on the ground a multitude of times but he never stayed down, and the two of them couldn't find a single opening to take advantage of. It wasn’t until towards the end of that five minutes that Seonghwa felt it. He was certain Hongjoong felt it too, for his swing faltered and the two merely regarded each other. A pull, like gravity heavy on their minds, hummed through their bodies, and Seonghwa knew.

They were Drift Compatible. 

As soon as Seonghwa realized it, Hongjoong realized it too.

He opened his mouth to open that avenue of conversation but Hongjoong was already halfway to the door.

“Hey Hongjoong, wait!” Mingi called out after him, but the Ranger just disappeared through the door. The man sighed, running his fingers down his face.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa stood in the center of the ring, staring at the door with bright eyes. His smile was subtle; there was no chance in hell Hongjoong could get rid of him now.

Perhaps Hongjoong had realized that too.

—————— xxx —————

The night air was chilly, carrying with it the scent of salt and a sting that seemed to go straight to Seonghwa’s bones. Seonghwa had never been a fan of cold weather but, for the moment, he welcomed the numbing sting the night air provided. Though it wasn’t silent, he was doing a pretty good job at tuning out the world around him. The ocean waves lapped gently at the metal he was currently sitting upon, legs dangling off the edge as he stared out upon the open sea.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, Seonghwa’s attention swiveling up and around. His eyes followed black pants all the way up to a soft smile. San stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets; a brow quirked in his direction. “Mind if I join you?”

Seonghwa untangled his hand from his pocket, patting the spot next to him. “Sure, don’t see why not.”

San sank to the ground, allowing his legs to dangle off the edge as well; his hands came to rest on the tops of his thighs. The leader of Aurora hummed softly for a moment, and the two took in the atmosphere of deadly ocean together in silence. As the breeze settled down, the words finally came. 

“He’s not a bad guy, I promise.” Seonghwa glanced over at him. “Hongjoong is … well, Hongjoong.”

“I don’t think he’s bad,” Seonghwa replied at length. “Is that the vibe I’m giving?”

San chuckled. “No, no. Not a vibe or anything. Just getting it out there, since most tend to dislike him. Hongjoong can be a little abrasive but, he’s a good guy. Honest.”

Now it was Seonghwa’s turn to hum, the noise low in his throat. “Mm. Don’t worry. He reminds me of someone I used to know; I can handle it.”

The other Ranger tilted his head back, staring up at the cloudless sky. Stars twinkled in the distance, containing more life than they could ever comprehend. “Mingi said you felt it. Is it true? Are you Drift Compatible?”

_ Ah. _ Seonghwa lifted a hand in a half-hearted shrug. “I felt it. I’m pretty sure Hongjoong felt it took, but he ran away before we could talk about it.”

San shuffled next to him, placing a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder. HIs gaze shifted to meet the eyes of Project Aurora’s leader. “Listen Seonghwa. He wants to be a hero, but he hasn’t learned how to forgive a past that isn’t his own. Him finding a Drift Partner is crucial right now. I know it, he knows it, everyone knows it.” San worried at his lip for a moment. “Yet … he’s still stubborn. He’s afraid of letting people into his mind; he’s always been like that.”

“May I ask why it’s crucial?”

The hand left his shoulder, instead landing on the back of San’s neck; his attention shifted to the far off horizon. “He’s the first to handle Cerulean, but he’s never had a proper partner, and the Marshal is growing impatient. A grounded Jaeger is a useless Jaeger.”

The words were harsh, but Seonghwa understood. There was no time for deadweight in the seemingly endless war against the kaiju. Jaegers had been created to fight the massive beasts emerging from deep within the sea. One sitting idle in a Shatterdome only meant more people could die.

“So,” and San looked back at him, gaze intense, “I want you to convince him to attempt a Drift with you. You have experience, you know what you’re doing, and you can handle his personality. I feel you may be the best choice for this. He’ll be cut from Aurora entirely if this doesn’t work out and … even if he’s stubborn, he’s still part of this family.”

Seonghwa’s lips twitched. How could he tell San that he too was afraid of letting someone into his mind again? How could he tell San, who was looking at him with more determination than Seonghwa had ever seen before, that he didn’t know if he had the confidence to do it? What good would a stranger from another Shatterdome do? Taking a deep breath, he faced San once more.

“Okay. I’ll do everything I can to keep him in the program.”

If only he knew how much of a mess he was getting himself into.


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I put youngjo here,, and what about it?
> 
> anyways, new chapter! \\(*^*)/ hope you enjoy!

_ Home became a concept found within people, for the land held far too much strife to settle down and exist peacefully. We found home among each other. _

—————— xxx ——————

Seonghwa sat outside under the stars long after San left, lost in his mind while it sifted through thought after thought. Their conversation weighed heavily upon him, low enough to rest upon his lungs and force a deep sigh from within. Finally, he rose to his feet and cast his gaze out upon the ocean, inhaling a breath that carried salt and cold and sending a shiver down his spine. He could do this. There had never been a challenge he had backed down from before, as long as you didn’t count eating four chili peppers in a row, but that was beside the point.

Thinking of peppers, his stomach made a low rumble, demanding food he had so rudely denied it at lunch time that day. Several moments of tense silence passed before Seonghwa finally turned his back upon the ocean, heading back towards the bay doors. His head swam with what San had said. Hongjoong seemed so unfriendly upon their first meeting, with an air of aloof disinterest surrounding his entire frame, and Seonghwa wasn’t sure he could handle putting up with a personality like that just yet. Deep down, however, he knew he couldn’t afford to be picky. Not in a world full of monsters.

His footfalls echoed eerily as he wandered through the bay area, taking in the sight of all the Jaegers around him. Seonghwa had often wondered how different his life would’ve been had he been born years prior, maybe even a little later. Would he still have ended up where he was now, walking through a giant building filled with massive mechanical machines most had only dreamed of ever seeing? There was no proper answer for such a question so he didn’t dwell on it, his need for food pausing as he neared Cerulean. Stopping before the beautiful Jaeger, he craned his head back. The Mark-7 had never been deployed in active combat, only for its two test runs, thus far spending its entire existence within this very hangar. Seonghwa thought of the lives it could have saved, the amount of destruction that could have been prevented … and he put a stop to those thoughts almost immediately. There was no use in bringing forth the what-ifs. He could sit there for hours and think things like what if the kaiju never appeared but it would never rewind time. 

Completely entranced in his mind, it was no surprise the sudden loud noise to his right made his heart leap from his chest. A head popped out of Cerulean’s foot, hand flashing into view as it scrubbed at scruffy hair. The source of the noise tossed a wrench upon the ground, their groan of frustration palpable. Meanwhile, Seonghwa simply clutched his chest as the internal battle to calm down his beating heart. This movement caught the eye of the mechanic and they perked up at the sight of him.

“Hey, you there! Have you seen anything weird tonight? Or rather, anyone?”

His eyes flicked left and then right but no one else was within sight. “Are you talking to me?”

Even from where he was standing, he could see the amused smile that spread across the stranger’s face. “Who else would I be talking to?” They motioned for Seonghwa to walk over.

As he drew closer, he spotted the big wire-framed glasses balancing precariously on the mechanic’s nose. His hair was dark black with curls pointing wildly in various directions, cheeks stained with grease. He spotted the mechanic uniform once he reached the toe the noisy human was sitting in.

Noisy human perked up a bit once he came into closer view, snapping his fingers. “Wait! You’re the new recruit! Seonghwa, right? Can you hand me that wrench right there?”

His eyes followed the pointed finger, settling on a bag of tools strewn haphazardly around the floor. “Uh …” Despite the response, Seonghwa still located the necessary tool, handing it off with an inquisitive expression. “Yeah, I’m Seonghwa. You are …?”

The mechanic vanished back within Cerulean’s foot without pause. Seconds later, a bolt went flying out onto the floor. This mechanic was … quite the character. Seonghwa pushed himself onto his toes and tried to peek inside, jerking back in surprise as the stranger popped back up again.

“Oh right, introductions! I’m Youngjo, also part of Project Aurora. I’m the mechanic that tends to your Jaegers.” He waved the wrench but didn’t disappear quite yet.

No one had mentioned a mechanic within the program. Seonghwa wondered if there were more. Surely there had to be, given how massive each Jaeger was. He could’ve asked about it, but his mind was a little preoccupied with the energetic man before him. “Ah, nice to meet you, Youngjo.”

“So, have you?” Youngjo said, not missing a beat.

“Have I what?” The confusion was clear upon his features, earning him a gentle laugh.

“Seen anything weird!” He motioned for Seonghwa to move even closer, taking a quick scan of the hangar; Seonghwa did so. Youngjo lowered his voice. “I can trust you, right?”

Tension curled around his stomach, squeezing tightly, and Seonghwa swallowed as he realized something was amiss. He wasn’t really sure how to answer the question. They’d literally just met, but luckily Youngjo was incredibly perceptive.

“Oh right, you just got here. What am I saying, of course it can’t be you.” The mechanic tapped his wrench against Cerulean’s foot. “Someone’s been tampering with the Jaegers. I’ve had to work overtime the last two weeks just to check for inconsistencies.”

It felt like time slowed, the roar of his heartbeat consuming his eardrums. Tampering with the Jaegers? Who in their right mind would do such a thing, especially during such a crucial time?

“Do you have any suspects yet?” Seonghwa questioned tentatively. 

But Youngjo sighed, exhaustion showing through his voice. “I wish. It could be anyone, considering the blueprints for these things aren’t exactly hard to find. We can’t really go around throwing out accusations either. Someone did that once over a coveted pudding cup that was stolen, and we still haven’t heard the end of it.” His attention suddenly turned to Seonghwa, intense gaze catching him off guard. “Sorry, I ramble a lot when I’m stressed. Simply put, no one has been able to spot them, and the hangar is too large for our cameras to really pick up on any shifty movements.” Youngjo’s head tilted, spotting something behind him, but this didn’t offer enough time for Seonghwa to really prepare himself.

“You look full of energy tonight.” The sudden voice made his heart skip a beat and he threw a glance over his shoulder. Behind him stood two new faces, dressed in off-duty uniforms. The one on the right was tall, dark hair curling near his ears and features as soft as the smile upon his lips. At his left stood a slightly shorter man with dark brown hair and a solemn expression; his hands were shoved into his pockets. They moved to stand next to Seonghwa, the taller one offering a friendly wave.

“Oh! I didn’t expect you two to stop by tonight,” Youngjo greeted.

“We’re actually on our way to grab some food. Been training all day, you know?” The brown-haired stranger focused his attention upon Seonghwa. “You must be the new guy. Seonghwa, right?”

“Ah … yeah. I’ve been getting that a lot today. It’s nice to meet you …?”

“Yunho! This grumpy butt is Jongho.” Yunho leaned over a bit, mock whispering. “He’s a bit cranky because I beat him at chess earlier.”

Youngjo laughed softly. “I thought you said you were training.”

“He totally cheated, don’t let him lie to you,” Jongho said.

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked between the trio, his input quiet for the moment.

“Playing chess is a valid form of training! It tests your mind!” Yunho replied.

“And your patience,” Jongho mumbled.

That got a small chuckle from Seonghwa and he crossed his arms. “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you. Guess that means I’ve met all of Aurora now.”

Jongho leaned over Yunho a bit, finally taking a good look at him. He didn’t seem unfriendly, just a bit closed off, but whatever he seen in Seonghwa’s features appeared to satisfy him. After a couple moments of contemplative silence, Jongho exhaled and offered a small nod. “Mingi mentioned you trained with Hongjoong. Can’t believe they’re pairing you with that mess.”

Youngjo, realizing he wasn’t getting anything done, ducked back into the foot he’d been inspecting. That didn’t stop his voice from spilling from within though. “Jongho’s just grumpy because he and Hongjoong don’t get along.”

“Hongjoong has a hard time getting along with anyone. I can’t remember the last time he ate dinner with us,” Yunho mused, tapping his chin.

Seonghwa barely dodged a bolt tossed from Cerulean’s foot, watching it roll away. He couldn’t really offer a comment on the topic. After all, he barely knew the guy.

“That’s not entirely true; he gets along with San pretty well,” Youngjo replied, voice muffled.

Yunho laughed. “San gets along with everyone though. He’s San!” He walked over to where the mechanic was currently hiding in, peeking into the compartment as best he could. “Anyways, have you eaten yet? I know how bad you are with food.”

“Can’t right now. I’ve gotta finish.”

“Just come back to it, Youngjo. It’s only been two weeks since …” Yunho’s voice grew soft, and Seonghwa couldn’t hear the rest of what he said. 

Anxiety squeezed his heart, bringing with it a host of unwelcome memories and feelings. Could he really find a place among a team already so accustomed to each other?

_ Stop.  _ The voice in his head was soft but firm. He would have to make it work, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. There were too many people counting on him, too many burdens riding on his shoulders—too many things to protect. Seonghwa was determined to become the piece their puzzle desperately lacked.

“You wanna go with us, Seonghwa? If you haven’t eaten yet that is.” Jongho’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and his attention snapped back into the present. Youngjo climbed out of Cerulean’s foot and landed on the floor with a soft clack. He merely blinked for a moment, soaking in the words. No one had bothered inviting him to meals after he lost Jehyun, people too tired from their own burdens to put up with Seonghwa and his own. Truthfully, he missed that sense of community, so Jongho’s invite meant more to him than he would ever dare vocallize.

The faintest hint of a smile graced his lips and he looked up at them with a quick nod. “Sure. I was actually heading that way initially.”

“Great!” Yunho clapped his hands together. “That settles it then! Time for some grub.” The Ranger picked up the bolt Youngjo had previously thrown, dropping it into his toolbag as he packed up. Once that task was completed, the four of them began to make their way to the cafeteria. Seonghwa merely listened as they picked their way through empty halls. The conversation shifted from various news to gossip he wasn’t quite familiar with yet, names and locations being tossed around like renegade popcorn. Yunho made a conscious effort to include him but there wasn’t much Seonghwa could contribute just yet. He still made sure to vocalize his appreciation for the gesture. The other Ranger had an air of friendliness, akin to the aura San exuded, and Seonghwa found himself growing ever more relaxed in his presence. He made him feel like less of a stranger.

Jongho on the other hand … he wasn’t unfriendly, but there was an air of awkwardness surrounding him. Despite this, he seemed to warm up to Seonghwa rather quickly in their short walk. He even managed to pull a laugh out of stoic faced Ranger.

The group of them got lost in conversation, chattering away. It felt nice to have a normal conversation for the first time in literal months. For a moment, Seonghwa forgot the world wasn’t falling apart … like things were okay again. Deep down, however, Seonghwa knew; they never would have come together if the ocean wasn’t a roiling mess crawling with monsters. They were strangers amid a crisis plaguing the whole world. Seonghwa wondered, for only a moment, if they ever would’ve crossed paths if they had been born in a world not built on fear.

Entering the cafeteria, Seonghwa was genuinely surprised by the amount of people milling about. Nagasaki’s personnel had been small, barely enough to fill their tiny little mess hall, but here? There were people at almost every table, conversing, eating, socializing, and just … taking up space. It was a sight he wasn’t used to and it appeared that shock translated across his face.

“Our Shatterdome houses over three hundred people, though I doubt you’ll ever see all of them in the same place. There’s always someone new to meet here.” Jongho patted his shoulder, and his feet moved on autopilot as the other three made their way towards the serving counter. The food selection wasn’t that great but it was leagues better than what he was used to. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten a real biscuit, the buttery circle snatched from the bowl before him in excitement. Nothing like biscuits and mac and cheese, right?

They settled at one of the only empty tables in the room, Seonghwa falling into silence as he munched on his coveted biscuit. Youngjo laughing, Yunho’s smile, and Jongho shaking his head … they looked so innocent. It was here that it hit him—that they had never seen true battle. They’d never been thrown into the sea or forced on their knees at the mercy of a kaiju, unsure if they would win. Not to say those in Project Aurora were invincible, but they had never faced a casualty or a difficulty winning a battle. This realization brought a strange feeling to his chest but not one of sadness or upset. It just felt … weird. To see people smiling and laughing like nothing was wrong, but perhaps that was the secret to morale here. 

He recalled Jehyun’s motto and smiled into his biscuit.  _ ‘Be happy, no matter what happens. Don’t let the kaiju take away your joy; that’s how they win.’ _ But the happiness that statement brought back to him shattered within seconds.

Seonghwa, sensing danger, snapped from his thoughts. His gaze trailed up as he realized someone was standing before him. Three, to be exact, all wearing trainee uniforms. The one in the center, definitely the leader, sneered at him as he was acknowledged. Apprehension sparked along his skin. Definitely dangerous.

“For one of the  _ best pilots, _ you sure don’t look like much,” the center one spoke, confirming his suspicions. His voice conveyed layers of emotion, meticulously picked apart by Seonghwa’s mind and made sense of in a tiny span of seconds between each word. Distrust and anger, both unfounded and incorrectly projected onto the newest Ranger.

As his mind worked to determine what their objective was, the leader reached over and plucked the rest of his biscuit from his tray. Yunho got out an angry ‘hey!’ before it was dropped on the floor.

Seonghwa’s lips twisted and he leaned back a bit. “What are you, five? Was that really necessary?”

The trainee scoffed. “You think you deserve to eat? Losing Polar Four like that … you’ve got alotta nerve walking in here like nothing happened. You gonna lose Cerulean Reverie too?”

Seonghwa rose to the challenge, literally. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but I guarantee you’re failing.”

“Ha! You’re one to talk about failure. I’m sure your partner learned about that the hard way.”

Anger rushed through him, heady and dangerous, the air surrounding him growing dark. Time slowed for just a moment as he struggled to hold back a punch he so desperately wanted to throw. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk from the young trainee’s face. HIs lips parted but before Seonghwa could even get a sound out, he was cut off by another voice.

“This is a war, not middle school. That’s no way to speak to a senior Ranger.”

The color drained from the trainee’s face and he could feel the tension grow thick around them. It only took a few moments of searching to realize who had spoken. Whatever ‘holier than thou’ complex the three trainees had drained away immediately, all three falling into attention. Not a single noise escaped them, bodies slack in realization they were about to be reprimanded harshly. Their eyes fixated upon the floor. Beyond them stood San, arms crossed and expression serious.

Wooyoung was at his side, arms tucked behind his back and disbelief scrawled across his features.

“You guys have a lot of balls talking to him like that. You’re behind big steel doors, comfortable and as safe as one can be. You’ve never seen combat and yet you’re talking down to a Ranger who has actually been on the field of battle? All three of you are disgraceful,” San spat, voice low. “Don’t know why you joined this program if you’re acting like this. Maybe becoming a Jaeger Pilot isn’t for you.”

The words were deep, having the desired effect San wanted. The leader of the trio dropped his shoulders ever further, muttering an apology. Seconds of tense silence passed before San motioned for them to walk away.

Anger still simmering in his heart, Seonghwa dropped back into his seat. The others seemed to sense his discomfort and allowed him a moment to calm, San and Wooyoung taking advantage of the quiet to settle on the opposite side of the table.

A hand hovered into his field of view, Seonghwa glancing over to see Jongho drop his own biscuit upon his tray. The gesture, though small, made him smile and the mood seemed to lift at the appearance of it.

“Are you okay, Seonghwa?” Yunho questioned softly.

He waved his hand. “I’m alright. Thank you for the biscuit, Jongho.” Seonghwa redirected his attention to San. “Thank you for dealing with them as well.”  _ Because things were about to get ugly. _ The words weren’t spoken but the weight they carried was there; San seemed to know this. 

“Yeah of course. You’re part of this weird little family now. Gotta look out for each other.”

“What you said was true though,” Wooyoung mumbled around a piece of chicken, voice muffled. “They have no place to criticize. Can’t believe they did it with Jongho and Yunho right here too.”

Youngjo’s hand shot up in the corner of his eye, the mechanic waving his fork around. “They’re just jealous, Seonghwa. Don’t take it to heart!”

He said a quiet thank you once more and the table soon devolved into more chatter.

Eventually, Mingi and Yeosang joined them, adding more sound that clashed with the ambiance of everyone else in the cafeteria. Seonghwa appreciated the company though, even when Mingi attempted to flip a strawberry in his mouth and somehow splash water all over everyone at the same time. As the lot laughed and smiled, Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice how one of them was missing. He glanced around the room but his eyes didn’t fall upon the reason for his search. San caught his wandering gaze with a knowing look, just giving a subtle shake of his head. Seonghwa really shouldn’t have been surprised. Hongjoong didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way and socialize when his feelings towards Project Aurora were clear. His attention went back to his food and he focused wholeheartedly on finishing off his mac and cheese.

Before they knew it an hour had passed. WIth training in the morning and Youngjo still needing to perform maintenance, the group slowly dispersed until only Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung remained at the table. They too eventually stood up to leave, San giving a reassuring pat upon his shoulder. They said their good evenings and went on their way, leaving Seonghwa alone. He stayed there a bit longer and simply watched as the cafeteria continued to grow emptier and emptier. Eventually, all that remained was a lone man in the corner; he mirrored Seonghwa’s own state. The sight brought a melancholic feeling throughout his frame.

Sighing softly, Seonghwa finally pushed himself to his feet anset about taking care of his tray. Once finished, he shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to just start walking. His mind was still too active to sleep and, well, he wasn’t really sure where to go. It appeared his subconscious had an idea though and eventually Seonghwa found himself in front of the training room. His eyes raised, staring at the glowing lights scattered around the door. He simply took a moment to soak in the situation he currently found himself in. This was something he had always wanted as a child but actually being within Hong Kong, closer than ever to the evil plaguing the world, felt so surreal. 

The thoughts quickly sloped into a slew of questions Seonghwa often tried his best to avoid. What would the world have been like without kaiju? Without a constant threat of death and destruction hidden beneath miles of water? Movies always portrayed the perfect family situation; a nice childhood, plenty of toys, family always a call away … and now most of the people in their current reality were fortunate if they hadn’t lost someone to a kaiju attack. It was a world from another time, far from what most of today’s younger generation experienced. And it was that exact realization, as far back as he could remember, that had motivated him to become a trainee in the first place. 

A soft _‘whump!’_ cut through his thoughts then. Seonghwa looked back to the doorway, wondering if he had imagined it. Seconds of silence ticked by before another muffled noise cut through the hallway. It appeared he wasn’t the only one with a restless mind. He peered around the door, trying to get a peek at whoever was up this late as well. The white spotlight drenched the center of the room, lighting up the ring, while the lights along the back wall blinked and flickered as they calculated various stats in real time. At first glance, the room looked empty, and Seonghwa was a bit concerned, wondering if someone had just forgotten to turn off the lights for the night. 

His eyes caught a whisk of shadow right as he was about to go on his way, capturing his attention once again. He narrowed his eyes against the light in an attempt to figure out whoever was in the room. As soon as his vision adjusted, he internally sighed.

The person had their back to him, maneuvering around the standing punching bag along the far wall. They were hitting it with a mix of hard and soft blows, dodging from side to side to emulate a real fight. Their attention was completely focused on their training, hands shifting in a flurry of movement. Seonghwa watched in admiration. The mystery person had a graceful fluidity to their movements. Every stray punch, every repositioning of their feet, all of it; this person was a professional.

Unfortunately for Seonghwa, he realized why it was so familiar the same moment the other person caught sight of his prying eyes.

Mystery person with fluid grace was none other than Hongjoong.

Deep down, Seonghwa wished he had just kept on walking, but he recalled the earlier conversation. He had promised to make this work, not only for Hongjoong’s sake, but for the sake of Aurora and, really, the whole world. San’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind then.  _ A grounded Jaeger is a useless Jaeger.  _

“Oh, it’s you.” Hongjoong leaned back on his heels, his intense gaze focused directly on him. “You’re up pretty late.”

Seonghwa merely regarded him for a moment, studying Hongjoong’s expression. He tried his hardest to make sense of whatever emotion the man was attempting to convey in his voice. Yet, he came up with nothing; he couldn’t get a read on him. “So are you. Do you always train this late at night?”

Hongjoong shrugged, motioning for Seonghwa to enter the room. “Most of the trainees are asleep right now. I like it better when there’s less people here.”

He stepped within the training room, the cool flow of air soothing his burning nerves. As he drew closer, he noticed more and more equipment just strewn around the room; it reminded him of Youngjo. Three empty water bottles lay scattered across the floor, with a fourth about halfway finished. He eventually found what he was looking for though; granola bar wrappers upon a bag in the corner. At least he had eaten something that evening. Who knew how long he’d been grinding in here.

(Seonghwa would have to unpack why he cared later.)

“You prefer the quiet or the cold?”

“Maybe a bit of both.” Hongjoong snatched up the water bottle, chugging the rest of the liquid within. “Believe it or not, but a fair number of the trainees are afraid of me.”

“Oh, I believe it.” He gestured vaguely to the scattered trash. “You do have the whole dark and spooky angst aesthetic going on.” Seonghwa’s head tilted slightly. “You ate something more than a handful of granola bars I hope.”

Hongjoong actually laughed, catching him off guard. “Dark and spooky. San says the same thing. Were you talking to him?” The Ranger toed one of the wrappers. “I survive on granola bars and determination alone.”

“Someone had to give me a bit of a briefing,” Seonghwa replied, careful.

“Briefing hmm …” Hongjoong’s voice trailed off and he pushed aimlessly on the punching bag’s middle. His face appeared thoughtful before he glanced at Seonghwa again. “Hey. Spar with me, yeah? I want to see if that connection was real.”

Seonghwa’s fingers slowly curled up, digging his nails into his palms. The words the other man uttered continued to expand the guarded quiet between them, like a hungry predator regarding cornered prey in their final moments. The aura was dangerous, but not for negative reasons. “You’re on. Don’t expect me to go easy just because no one’s watching.”

Hongjoong laughed for a second time, the sound of Velcro echoing in the room as he readjusted his glove. “I’d be a little offended if you did. I think I can handle it … and you.”

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips, and Seonghwa readied his fists. If this was going to be anything like their session that morning, he had to be prepared for long and hard. This wasn’t sparring so much as it was figuring out who would grow exhausted first. Seonghwa was determined to win and, perhaps, prove his worth to Hongjoong. 

“Alright,  _ dark and spooky _ , bring it on.” He crooked a finger and almost immediately spun to the side as Hongjoong rushed in. It was a sharp movement, one Seonghwa barely caught, and Hongjoong’s fingers scraped along his back. 

Seonghwa executed the same move from that morning, kicking back to catch the other man in the knee. His movement still wasn’t anticipated despite using it multiple times already. Hongjoong dropped but not for long, using the momentum from his sudden shift in gravity to roll away. Seonghwa followed, managing to gain a hold on Hongjoong’s arm. He pressed it into the Ranger’s back, digging his knee between his shoulder blades to keep him there. 

“Oh, look at you! Too bad though.” Before Seonghwa could unpack those words, Hongjoong’s thighs pressed tightly around Seonghwa’s foot. The pressure was enough to make him flinch and it was all the opening Hongjoong needed. He rolled opposite his pinned arm with enough force to loosen the grip Seonghwa had, sending him flying. THere was no time to lay there, however, and his feet slipped as he scrambled back upright.

Hongjoong had that gleam in his eyes again. Seonghwa felt adrenaline rush through his body and readied his fists once again. It’d been a long, long time since he’d faced someone able to keep up with him. Someone who didn’t admit defeat after a simple pin. Someone that knew how to combat all of his usual techniques.

The Ranger came at him with a similar move from that morning, throwing punch after punch towards him. Seonghwa dodged all of them but only just. It wasn’t a fighting style he was familiar with and his mind went into overdrive attempting to figure out how to get out of the way and locate an opening of his own. He quickly settled on a move of his own and ducked under, darting around Hongjoong and once again going for the back of his knees. Hongjoong, however, was prepared for it this time. A hand snatched his ankle at the last second, Hongjoong using the entirety of his body weight to pull Seonghwa to the ground. 

He barely had time to process before he was pinned. Hongjoong smirked down at him. “Your technique is balance; mine is melee. You figured me out this morning, so I spent all day doing the same.”

“Thanks. Too bad you didn’t pin me face down.” Seonghwa jerked in Hongjoong’s grip, forcing his knee to fall into the ground. He used the momentary shift in gravity to shove him off.

Hongjoong wasn’t someone who went down easy though. It wasn’t surprising he was back to standing within seconds, rushing towards Seonghwa with a slightly sour expression. The flurry of punches came his way once again and Seonghwa took the time to study for a different opportunity. Hongjoong continued to push him further and further back across the room. Right as he was nearing his limit, he spotted the opening he needed.

He had to time this perfectly otherwise it would hurt. Even with that risk, he knew he had to take it; regardless of whether it worked he was losing steam. Zeroing in on Hongjoong’s arm, his entire attention went into slowing down the arc of the punch thrust his direction. Seonghwa’s own arm shot out right as Hongjoong swung, fingers curling around his wrist and stopping him with incredible strength. The sudden upset brought the fiery Ranger to a grinding halt, eyes wide at the realization that Seonghwa had caught his full force punch.

Seonghwa met those shocked eyes and inhaled sharply. “I’m calling it. Draw.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted, gaze still alternating between the hand upon him and Seonghwa’s face. “Uh … yeah, draw.”

Thus, Seonghwa let go. He stepped back and let out a loud sigh of relief. WIth their sparring session officially ended, the man slipped to the floor. “You really know how to throw a punch.” His fingers massaged the sore spots he’d been hit. Even his ankle was a little red from Hongjoong’s grip.

There was no denying it now; they were, without a doubt, Drift Compatible. Everything down to their fighting styles complimented each other perfectly. Even their personalities, for those who counted such a thing in Drift Compatibility. All he needed to do now was convince Hongjoong to actually attempt to Drift with him. San’s words echoed within his mind yet again and that strengthened his resolve. 

Destiny was a fickle thing, and Seonghwa refused to believe it was Jehyun’s destiny to die, but maybe, perhaps, Hong Kong was where he was meant to be. Here, working with Hongjoong.

Seonghwa dragged his eyes back to Hongjoong, the latter of which was currently drinking another bottle of water, and he inhaled softly. “Hongjoong, I think we shou—”

Seonghwa’s voice was cut off by a deafening alarm, ringing sharply throughout the entire Shatterdome. Hongjoong’s water slipped from his grip and tumbled to the ground, spilling along the training room floor; it would be the least of their concerns that night. The intercom above their heads crackled with static. “Category Three Kaiju emerging from the Breach! Rangers of Candor Sunrise and Midnight Ethereal, please prepare for deployment!”

His heart sank, and for the first time since losing Polar Four, the realization that he was useless settled deep within his bones.


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking so long to update this fic :') pwease don't yeet me for this chapter either, I'm sowwy,,
> 
> warning for injuries this chapter !

_There was a time in the past where we laughed and smiled, but joy became a concept best left in storybooks. In time, we forgot what it meant to be happy._

—————— xxx ——————

_“You sure you have what it takes to become a Jaeger Pilot?”_

_Seonghwa’s lips pursed into the tiniest pout man had ever seen. “You caught me off guard. You know I don’t like being snuck up on!”_

_Jehyun laughed, green eyes twinkling with amusement. He held out his hand and Seonghwa reluctantly took it, allowing himself to be hoisted back onto his feet. “Always be on your guard, Seonghwa. You never know when something might happen.”_

_“I know, I know.” Seonghwa patted the dust from his shorts. The weather was unusually warm that day, prompting the two childhood friends to head to a local swimming spot to cool off. Not the ocean though—never the ocean. Jehyun had ducked into some bushes along their walk to the spot in question and while Seonghwa had been searching for him, jumped from behind a tree and startled him. Seonghwa had never taken jumpscares that well._

_They began walking down the dusty path again, birds chirping overhead. Jehyun swung his shoes back and forth in excitement, his eyes pointed to the blue sky even as the trees overhead attempted to conceal it._

_“I’m just teasing you, Seonghwa. We’re gonna be the best Rangers the world has ever seen, just you wait.”_

_The younger of the pair threw up his fist. Even if he wasn’t over being scared just yet, Seonghwa let things go easily. “Yeah! We can do anything.”_

_Jehyun laughed, taking off down the path. “Race ya!”_

_It was a sound Seonghwa never thought he’d be without._

—————— xxx ——————

It was hard to describe the feeling within Seonghwa’s body. Like lead, filling every inch of his frame, from fingertips to toes and resting heavily upon his heart. Anxiety and fear, liquid fire within his veins, pulsating like the worst form of adrenaline he’d ever felt. This would be the first deployment of a Jaeger since he arrived and the realization that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, provide assistance roiled hotly in the pit of his stomach. 

Hongjoong sprang into action across the room, tossing an entire roll of paper towels into the middle of the spilled water. The other pilot hurried to the training room door, motioning for Seonghwa to follow. “Come on, we need to go to the control room.”

Seonghwa took a deep breath and battled his feelings back down. They were filed and set aside, to be unpacked later—just another day in the life of a Ranger. He hurried after Hongjoong as the alarm continued to echo throughout the hallways. The closer they drew to the control room, the more aware he became of the difference in atmosphere. It was abuzz with activity and, in another world, would’ve been perceived as a good thing. But here, when their lives could end at any moment, it was nothing but a somber gathering.

As they made their way through the crowd, they passed by Candor Sunrise. Several mechanics scurried around near the feet, making their final checks. From across the way, Seonghwa locked eyes with one of them. They looked familiar but Seonghwa couldn’t tell from his vantage point if it was Youngjo or not. He gave them a small nod before quickening his pace so he could catch up with Hongjoong’s haste.

“Opening bay doors. Please stay clear,” a voice suddenly boomed over the intercom. Seonghwa jumped, startled; he pretended to ignore the look Hongjoong gave him.

By the time they reached the control room, Yunho and Jongho were already there. Seonghwa nodded in greeting, filing in beside them. Silence spanned between them, a stark contrast to the loud ambiance of the room itself. People milled about in every corner, every chair containing a body; tension sat thick in the air. Their Marshal stood in the center, arms crossed behind his back and barking orders to those around him.

Seonghwa took a deep breath to center himself, pushing his unease down evermore. He had known this day would come once he arrived, and his former Marshal had warned him of the feelings that would come with it, but no amount of coaching could ever prepare him for this. The feeling of just how useless he truly was. Those in Project Aurora were highly trained and specifically chosen for their skills. They were paired based on their willingness to cooperate and form a bond, to become partners and carry out missions no one else wanted, even with the price tag that came with it. The notion that everything could go wrong in the blink of an eye added a pressure that hung heavily upon everyone.

Standing there, surrounded by walls that felt near suffocating, ears roaring with the sound of activity, Seonghwa wasn’t sure he had what it took to handle such a weight.

He had no partner and, by extension, no Jaeger. What could he do?

Yunho nudged him gently, expression concerned. “You okay, Seonghwa?”

Realizing he’d been caught, Seonghwa straightened back out and cleared his throat. “Yeah, fine, minus the kaiju wandering around outside.”

Jongho peered around his partner, concern clear on his features. His attempt at a joke was ignored. “This is your first time near combat since … the accident, right? You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to.”

Months ago, when he’d first lost Jehyun, he would’ve been angry with the clear attempt at coddling him. Now … he just knew they were concerned over his well being. “I can’t run away from every battle,” Seonghwa sighed. “I need to see the way you guys handle combat anyway. In person.”

Tense silence passed between the three of them before a loud beep forced their attention to the screen along the opposite wall. “Initiating Neural Handshake!” One of the people seated upfront called.

Seonghwa’s gaze jerked upwards, eyes training on the hologram table taking up the center of the room. Split projections of the interiors of Candor and Midnight hovered above, showing the Rangers within standing perfectly still. A flicker of emotion passed through San’s face and Wooyoung gasped beside him, lashes fluttering. The moment their Drift began, their expressions fell into blank nothingness. Beside them, Mingi and Yeosang followed suit.

“Connections established. Handshake holding strong.”

A collective breath echoed through everyone in the room. No matter how many times Drift Partners went in together, they always carried the possibility of becoming entangled in memories that weren't their own. Even the most seasoned Ranger was at risk.

The Marshal took a few steps forward, gaze focusing intensely on the hologram in the center. He looked terrifyingly calm, a stark contrast to the first time Seonghwa had spoken with him. “Candor, Midnight, your mission is to find and eliminate the kaiju, code named Crippleclaw. Keep it away from land and proceed to engage. Drop!” The Marshal’s voice, strong and commanding, brought immediate silence to the control room.

The screech of metal scraping on metal echoed through the entirety of the Shatterdome, vibrating deep within Seonghwa’s bones as the massive bodies of Candor Sunrise and Midnight Ethereal were carried towards their destination. Through the hologram, they watched as the Jaegers were dropped into the frothing ocean. Their forms, even through a holographic projection, still hummed with power. They immediately began their trek to the blip on the radar far off to the left, the kaiju it belonged to moving at a rapid pace through the depths of the ocean waves. Good thing was, it didn’t seem to be heading towards a city. Bad news, however, was Crippleclaw happened to be heading straight for the Shatterdome and the Jaegers awaiting it.

Midnight reached the kaiju first. It rose from the sea with a deafening roar, massive body glowing blue and eyes bright and angry. Four arms protruded from its midsection, the upper two adorned with large crab-like claws covered in spikes. The faintest hint of blue glowed at the tips, growing in intensity as Midnight drew closer. Crippleclaw was appropriately named, the kaiju cut straight from a nightmare. 

Wasting no time, Crippleclaw lunged straight for Midnight, claws snapping around its left arm. Their body stumbled back from the force of it, Yeosang and Mingi’s sounds of surprise tumbling over their audio channels.

They retaliated immediately, Yeosang swinging their right arm into the side of the kaiju’s head. The grip upon them loosened just enough for their arm to be yanked free. Another punch, this time from Mingi, connected with the angry beast’s lower jaw. A screech filled the room, Crippleclaw howling in anger.

Candor arrived at that moment, jumping into action without hesitation. Crippleclaw, distracted now by sleek red metal, raised all four arms and launched at Candor’s body. The kaiju, with its massive weight, narrowing missed them, claws scraping across the Jaeger’s chest. A massive wave of water surged from where it collapsed back into the ocean.

Midnight reached down after it, hand curling unseen around Crippleclaw’s back legs. They pulled, hefting the kaiju from the depths of dark water. Candor got into position beside them, readying the plasma cannons built into their open palms. Midnight and Candor were a terrifyingly good duo. One held while the other placed the killing blow, something utilized often in quick kill operations. 

Crippleclaw wouldn’t go down without a fight, however, and claws slashed out at Candor’s leg with tremendous force.

It knocked them off balance, the first place of their cannons narrowly missing Midnight’s own body. The second Crippleclaw’s back, earning a roar of pain that sent the beast writhing. A claw hand twisted towards Candor. Midnight pulled hard but the attempt fell flat, not when Crippleclaw had three hands pressed against the ocean floor. The kaiju surged upwards and slammed full force into Candor’s upper body. Candor was sent flying backwards, landing in the water and becoming enveloped in the salty mass, swallowed up and out of sight. 

Within the hologram, everyone standing in the control room received a movie theater quality showcase of what happened next.

Everything went to hell within ten seconds.

San and Wooyoung called out to each other but it was too late. Whatever they had sensed beforehand proved futile. Wooyoung’s body lurched, swinging violently in the harness meant to secure him. The sturdy web of metal and cables kept him there for only a moment longer before they came undone. His body was thrown back against Candor’s interior and even through the distant audio, the sound of his head smashing into the wall resounded down to their very bones. San’s agonized scream cut deep into Seonghwa’s core and the leader of Aurora threw his head back.

_“Wooyoung!”_

There was no time for San to check on him, however, as Crippleclaw descended upon Candor’s downed body. Claws dug into Candor’s shoulders like they were nothing, the kaiju roaring as water flooded into the Jaeger’s joints. San, through sheer willpower or perhaps just the need to protect his partner, forced Candor upright, a screech of pained exertion tearing from his throat. Raising both legs, he pressed the Jaeger’s feet into Crippleclaw’s stomach and kicked with full force, breaking the massive beast free; it crashed into the ocean in much the same manner Candor had. San went limp from the amount of mental power he’d just used, and not a single bit of movement came from Wooyoung’s direction. 

The sound of their heartbeats pounding through the overhead monitors were the only clues that they were still alive.

The combined yells of Yeosang and Mingi cut through the thick atmosphere, Midnight Ethereal dancing into view to protect the downed Candor Sunrise.

Their Marshal whipped around immediately, pointing at Jongho and Yunho. “Prepare Horizon Six for deployment!”

The Rangers scrambled into action, the entire room launching into a flurry of shouting and movement. Their fight with Crippleclaw had lasted barely five minutes but given what had happened, it felt like a lifetime.

Hongjoong waved his hand in front of Seonghwa’s face, trying to get his attention, but his mind had become entranced by the image of San and Wooyoung. Unpleasant memories washed over him, the feeling of being severed from Jehyun forcing panic to clog his throat. Within seconds, he was hyperventilating, and he dropped to the floor to bury his face within his hands. It was too much to witness so soon after losing his own partner. A warm hand pressed against his shoulder, a voice trying hard to break him out of his panic attack.

Hands gripped his own and pried them gently from his face, Seonghwa focusing on Hongjoong’s face. Bottom lip quivering, the roaring in his ears settled just enough for him to hear what Hongjoong was saying.

“...hwa! _Seonghwa!_ Look at me!”

Hands trembling within Hongjoong’s, he tried his hardest to focus on the other Ranger’s face, but the shame burning deep within him prevented him from making full eye contact. 

“Focus on my breathing, don’t look at the screen. Wooyoung’s alive. San’s alive; it’ll be alright,” Hongjoong murmured softly. “Horizon is on the way. They’ll pull through.” Hongjoong kept talking, his words stumbling over one another, and Seonghwa wondered for a moment just who he was trying to calm. Still, he listened, focusing on Hongjoong’s lips as he attempted to steady his breathing and calm his heart rate. “There you go.”

As he came down from the attack, he finally managed to meet Hongjoong’s eyes; he found nothing but genuine concern within the normally hard depths. “I’m alright. I’m sorry. This is just … a lot.”

“Never apologize. You good to stand?” Fingers flexed gently against his hands.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, voice betraying him. He accepted Hongjoong’s help in rising, a bit surprised at how well the other Ranger had handled his panic attack. It reminded him of Jehyun, another slew of unwanted memories trying to take over his mind. Fighting to steel his nerves, Seonghwa finally cast his eyes back to the hologram before them. 

Midnight still danced through the water around Crippleclaw, staying annoyingly out of reach of the enraged kaiju. Their tactics were enough to keep Candor untouched but it was clear they were quickly running out of steam.

Beyond the hologram stood the Marshal, his eyes trained on the pair with an unreadable expression. Seonghwa met his eyes, something passing between them, before the man turned his back on them to observe the multiple screens suspended along the wall. 

Minimizing the screen San and Wooyoung were on, Horizon’s cockpit came into view on the right. Jongho and Yunho were fully suited up, expressions dark and determined, and a call out of ‘initiating handshake!’ resonated in the room. A twist of pain came across Yunho’s features and his eyes flicked to Jongho as they attempted to settle into their Drift. It was clear Jongho was clinging to a memory but he managed to filter it out before they could get a glimpse of it. Time was against them after all.

Here, Seonghwa witnessed the speed Horizon Six possessed.

Named appropriately after ‘mach six,’ Horizon held the title of the fastest Jaeger ever built, sailing through the ocean with a fluid grace. They wasted no time in reaching the exhausted Midnight Ethereal, raising a leg and bringing it down heavily against Crippleclaw’s head. The beast roared but Horizon gave no time for it to react, the handshake meter on the screen indicating the amount of emotion dangerously close to boiling over. Horizon grasped the bottom two clawed hands and yanked as hard as they could, tearing them free from the kaiju’s grotesque body. Luminescent blue scattered into the ocean, Crippleclaw’s massive mouth opening as it screamed in defiance. 

Midnight took that chance to swing upwards, slamming a closed fist into the bottom of the kaiju’s jaw. The beast twisted around, slashing out at Horizon’s body. A claw hooked against the wist, pulling the Jaeger with it. Horizon tumbled with the kaiju, spinning out of Crippleclaw’s grasp. 

“Deploying plasma sound!” Mingi called out, his voice echoing through the room. A bright blue light shot out from Midnight’s left hand. They raised the weapon and didn’t spare a single second in bringing it down with heavy force, driving the blade right through the center of Crippleclaw’s back. With the kaiju pinned, Horizon gripped the beast’s head and twisted. The creature’s loud screeching immediately fell silent, the blue along its body stuttering out, and the control room was washed in silence.

Looking over their shoulder, one of the scientists locked eyes with Seonghwa. His blood ran cold at the emptiness of their expression and even though it lasted barely a second, he felt like everything had been sucked out of him. “Kaiju signature terminated,” the man muttered, meeting the eyes of the Marshal. A nod followed, and the scientist turned back to their station; Seonghwa recognized him as one of the people who arrived with him from South Korea.

“Deploy rescue teams! Retrieve Candor Sunrise and get its Pilots to the med bay immediately!” The Marshal’s voice boomed. “We cannot afford to lose the leader of Project Auror—” His words were cut off by a bout of coughing through the audio channels, every pair of eyes in the room snapping up to the screen.

San had awoken, his face a mix of pain and panic. He unhooked himself from his harness, landing on the bottom of Candor’s head with a yelp. Despite the obvious strain pulling at his muscles, he limped towards Wooyoung’s body. His knees buckled halfway but San was not deterred, crawling across the floor until he reached him. “Wooyoung! Answer me!”

Bile rose in Seonghwas’s throat as he watched, eyes wide; the scene before him was something intimate and terrifying. Not a single soul dared to speak.

“Please, answer me. I need to know you’re okay!” Wooyoung didn’t move, and San collapsed into a heap beside his body. Through the camera attached to the Ranger’s helmet, they could see a glisten of blood along Wooyoung’s temple, eyes shut and lips slightly parted. His breathing was shallow. “You can’t go like this,” San said, words devolving into a broken sob. Here, remaining strong for Project Aurora didn’t matter; something in the man on the screen broke. “Please … you promised I could meet her. You promised!” San pleaded. He curled against the other Ranger’s body and sobbed softly. Exhausted from their ordeal, San went silent, sagging against Wooyoung’s body. 

The Marshal called out to him but there was no response; he had passed out clutching San’s hand.

With a heavy sigh, the Marshal lowered his head. “Everyone else is dismissed.”

No sooner had the words been spoken did Seonghwa whip around, fleeing from the room. After witnessing San and Wooyoung in such a state, he needed to be literally anywhere else. Despite this, the feelings coursing through him were not of fear or upset. Make no mistake, they were still there, but not in the way one would expect. No, they were, overwhelmingly so, a reminder of just how _useless_ he had been. Without a Drift Partner, he could do nothing, and being presented with that fact in such a raw manner right before his eyes cut him deep to his core.

San was alive. Wooyoung was alive. They were alive, but he could so easily not be within seconds; they’d nearly lost the backbone of Project Aurora.

Hands curling into fists, his nails dug so sharply into his palms they drew blood. Determination spread like wildfire through his veins. At that moment, his resolve doubled. He had to find a partner—quickly.

Eyes burning, he turned down the hall that would lead him to the bay area.

—————— xxx ——————

_It was hard to describe the feelings rushing through his body. He felt like he was floating, suspended in black space without a single thing in view, and yet he could still see clearly. He raised a hand, staring at his open palm in bewilderment._

_A sound echoed through the empty space and Seonghwa turned his head into an explosion of color as a memory greeted him._

_Stars twinkled above, the moon hidden behind several large clouds; it shed just the right amount of light onto the forest floor. Twigs snapped in the distance, and a tiny version of himself cowered against a tree. His hands were raised in front of his face, cheeks wet with tears while his entire body trembled in fear. Just beyond him, concealed by the curtain of darkness threatening to swallow him whole, milled a countless number of dogs; their glinting eyes were the only sign of their presence._

_A single growl turned into the whole pack, echoing through the clearing with a terrifying weight as the dog pack’s leader eyed Seonghwa with open hunger. He took a step towards the younger version of himself, calling out despite knowing he wouldn’t be heard. His dream-self curled against the tree he was clinging to, loud sobs echoing through the forest as he accepted what was about to happen to him. The feelings his past self were feeling flooded into his current body, the overwhelming sense of fear and panic locking up his movements._

_Without warning, another form leaped from around the corner of a nearby boulder. The newcomer shouted, raising a torch ablaze with fire towards the pack of wild dogs. Startled and afraid of the flame before them, the pack scattered, criss-crossing paths as they raced back into the safety of darkness. It was a younger version of Jehyun, his expression stern and fists raised as he chased away the creatures intent on making Seonghwa their meal._

_Jehyun bent down and Seonghwa jumped into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He clung to him tightly as Jehyun murmured something into his ear._

_Seonghwa watched the scene as relief flooded his body, heart twitching in his chest. This was the memory of the first time the duo had ever met, thus bringing forth Seonghwa owing Jehyun more than he could ever repay._

_All at once, the memory cut short, pulling him back into darkness. Their minds reconnected and the Drift solidified. He sought out his partner with a solemn expression. Drifting for the first time brought about the possibility of chasing the rabbit, a problem tough to harness and even harder to deal with. Despite it being Seonghwa’s memory, it wasn’t him who went down the rabbit hole._

_It was Jehyun._

—————— xxx ——————

San and Wooyoung, though both unconscious, returned to the Shatterdome safely. It took the combined efforts of Midnight and Horizon to return Candor’s limp body. The sight was haunting, seeing such a mighty Jaeger being treated like little more than a ragdoll. Tension within the hangar only grew worse at the realization that Candor Sunrise would be out of play until San and Wooyoung recovered. Dinner was eerily quiet that evening.

The four other Rangers looked exhausted upon exiting their Jaegers, none of them looking up for conversation. Seonghwa simply nodded at them as they passed, knowing they deserved a shower and a warm meal. There was nothing the rest of Project Aurora could do for their lead pair other than wait for a call from the medic declaring Wooyoung stable. 

Thus, without direction following dinner, Seonghwa found himself back at the training room. 

It was still in the same state Hongjoong and himself had left it in, the paper towels now sopping wet with the previously spilled water. The lights flickered to life as he entered the room, feeling all the more colder now.

Seonghwa tossed his jacket off and immediately dropped into formation. He didn’t go further than that, however, just staring at himself reflected in the opposite wall. His eyes were hollow, hands raised above his head and ready to strike if needed. It was him and yet the person he was staring at felt so far from the Seonghwa he knew. 

Yet, Seonghwa knew this; part of him had died too when Jehyun’s link was severed.

His body went slack, Seonghwa sinking to the floor in the center of the expansive training room. He felt so incredibly small, the walls threatening to swallow him up. The only thing that kept him grounded in that moment was the coolness of the floor against his palms. He felt so incredibly selfish sitting there. San and Wooyoung were the ones in pain and yet he couldn’t stop the emotions surging into every inch of his body. In a time where it mattered most, he could do nothing … just like when he’d lost Polar Four and the only person he had left who believed in him. When the time came for Seonghwa to save Jehyun from monsters, he had done nothing, and it was this very thought that was slowly eating him alive from the inside. No amount of relocation and distraction would magically get rid of those feelings. 

He buried his face into cold fingers, hoping it would stave off the tears threatening to spill over; his attempt failed. Alone in the practice room, surrounded by roaring silence, Seonghwa let everything out of him.

So easily did people forget Project Aurora were fresh adults, people who had just crossed the threshold from teenager to adulthood. They were fighting demons most of the human race would never see in person, hoping to keep it that way. The risks were understood, and maybe even accepted, but they would never forget their childhoods stolen.

—————— xxx ——————

Standing in the center of the training room the next day, Seonghwa was scarily calm. He showed no signs of the breakdown he had experienced in the same spot mere hours before. Instead, his eyes were focused upon the double doors leading to the hallway outside. Several trainees and other Rangers had filed into the expansive space, regarding him with the same calm. Seonghwa had promised he’d attempt to pair with Hongjoong but he couldn’t afford to wait for the man to come around, not when they were down a functioning Jaeger and two pilots. Scanning the candidates who had shown up for his sparring session, he took a deep breath.

_A grounded Jaeger is a useless Jaeger._

San’s words bit harshly into him, despite Seonghwa knowing they weren’t directed at himself. If he had to take Cerulean Reverie away from Hongjoong, if it truly came to that, then so be it. He couldn’t sit on the sidelines waiting for the next attack when he could be out in the field helping save lives.

The training room doors slid open, announcing the arrival of another participant. Parting his lips, Seonghwa’s eyes raised and his words fizzled out in his throat.

Standing there, dressed in all black training clothes and hands shoved deep into his pockets, was none other than Kim Hongjooong.


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you want woosan backstory? because here's some woosan backstory,,

_Everyone knew someone who lost someone. It became a commonality in our new reality, and those who wished to become heroes swelled. Some succeeded; many of them failed._

—————— xxx —————

The air pressed heavily against his skin, stuffy and stale.

San felt as bad as he looked; a ghost draped in skin and sinew. Hollow, gaunt, exhausted—haunted. It’d been two days since Candor Sunrise’s near-dearly failure and Wooyoung hadn’t stirred since. Not even a flutter of lashes or a dream induced sigh to indicate the life flowing through him. Wooyoung mirrored San, face lax and empty, heart monitor beeping so rhythmically it was unsettling. San should’ve been in bed too, really, but attempts to get him to rest were in vain. Though his eyes sat rimmed in shadow and his shoulders sagged heavily, he had no plans of leaving Wooyoung’s side anytime soon.

The shadows seemed to hiss as San sighed, reaching out and gently pulling Wooyoung’s hand into his own. His fingers were cold and still, nails broken and fingertips rough. It felt eerie staring down at them; he knew they were out of place. Wooyoung had always been a clean person, and he’d surely have a fit over the dirt resting comfortably beneath his nails. He’d have a fit over San’s sorry state too, not that it was anything new. San was used to the nagging. That was their dynamic. They caused trouble together, sure, but Wooyoung had reason to be cautious, and the thought of losing him terrified San so much it felt like his stomach had turned to lead.

From their closeness, most assumed they grew up together, but that wasn’t the case. Following the destruction of Manila and Sydney, they’d met by chance in a safe haven located deep within South Korea. The first time San had seen him, he hadn’t been far off from what he looked like now. Tired and broken, eyes hollow and distant. Unlike San, who had arrived with his father, Wooyoung had no one. Once he was older, much, much older, San wondered just what had kept him going. At the time, San had just been grateful for a friend, and Wooyoung mirrored that sentiment. San’s father treated Wooyoung as if he were his own, and they became a makeshift little family in a world brimming with cruelty and fear. If they had left him there, he probably would’ve given up his struggle within a year. 

Such was the way of those born in the era of kaiju.

Thus, when the time came, it surprised neither of them when San’s father volunteered to test and train for the Jaeger Program. He had always been a hero in the making. Strong, kind, eager; he carried all of the traits San himself hoped to embody one day. 

They were relocated to the Hong Kong SHatterdome, where a new life of fear, excitement, and uncertainty awaited them. San and Wooyoung witnessed the Jaeger Program being built from the ground up, quite literally, being introduced to the reality of war from a young age. Though the records were ‘lost’ in the constant shift of data, they served as some of the early subjects for Pons and Drifting. Their bond proved the stronger the connection, the better the Drift.

San’s father went on to become one of, if not the best, Rangers in the program. His selfless attitude and desire to end the kaiju threat brought honor beyond his imagination. Unknown to everyone at the time, the side effects of Mark-1 Jaegers would bring about a set of obstacles for all who piloted them in the near future.

Not many knew of San and Wooyoung’s past together and, really, it didn’t matter. What mattered were their abilities in the field and how many lives they could save before they took their final breaths. Once the youngest Rangers in the field, they were now the backbone of the program designed to save all of humanity; San and Wooyoung were as essential to each other as the moon was to the sun.

The heart monitor speeding up snapped him out of his trance. San’s attention refocused upon Wooyoung’s face, willing him to open his eyes. Nothing had changed. His breathing remained level, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Just as it had never happened, his heartbeat settled back into its usual pace.

“Are you dreaming, Wooyoung?” San murmured, the silence around him bulking at the intrusion of his voice. “Hopefully about something good. Somewhere with a bunch of food, where you can eat all you want.” San laughed, but the noise was hollow. His fingers squeezed Wooyoung’s hand but he didn’t return it.

The click of the door behind him caught his attention next but San didn’t turn to see who it was; he didn’t need to. He kept his eyes focused on Wooyoung’s face, heart squeezing in his chest. Moments of tense silence passed and San almost thought he had imagined the door opening before the exact voice he had been expecting flooded the room.

“You can’t sit in here forever.”

“With all due respect, Marshal, I highly doubt I’m of much use out of here right now.”

The Marshal sighed behind him. “You have a team to lead, Mr. Choi; they need your guidance too.”

San didn’t answer, instead raising a hand to scrub at his unwashed face. Deep down, or maybe not so deep, he knew the other man was correct. But working up the courage to trust Wooyoung would get better had taken a lot out of him already; he didn’t know if he was ready. 

A firm hand gripped his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know you want to be here when he wakes up,” the Marshal said, voice quiet, “but he’ll kick your ass if he wakes up and realizes you didn’t take care of yourself again.”

“I know, I know,” San laughed awkwardly. “I remember when he took away my computer for a week to force me to sleep.”

“Ah, I remember that. That wasn’t all Wooyoung.”

San chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Wooyoung’s hand. “I had a feeling you were in on it. Wooyoung isn’t the type to just take my things.”

The Marshal hummed in response. “He isn’t. He isn’t the type to give up either.” He let go. “You have to trust he’ll recover.” Footsteps gave clue to the man walking back to the door, the soft click of it opening making San wince. “Get some rest, San. Please.”

Silence ticked on before the Marshal understood that he wouldn’t be getting a reply, exiting the room. The door swung shut behind him and San’s body sagged ungracefully. Only then did he turn to look at the door, eyes trained unblinkingly upon the handle. “I’ll try … dad.”

—————— xxx —————

_“San, you won’t believe what just happened!”_

_The sound of Wooyoung’s excited voice convinced him to unglue his attention from his laptop screen, fingers coming to a halt upon worn keys. Wooyoung was walking towards him with a piece of paper grasped tightly in one hand and an expression San had never seen him with before; he looked ready to cry._

_“Are you okay? What’s up?” He pushed his laptop away, giving his full attention to his excited partner._

_Wooyoung sat next to him and he slapped the paper onto the table. San glanced between it and his partner’s face._

_“I got a letter … from a hospital in Seoul.” He sat back, fingers splayed across paper so pristine white it almost didn't’ look real. “There’s a patient there. She recently woke up and,” Wooyoung paused, taking a deep breath, “she says she’s my mom.”_

_San blinked, surprise clear on his features. How anyone could survive being in the epicenter of the Manila incident was, quite literally, a miracle. “Are you … are you sure it’s her, San? N-not that I’m not excited for you but, like, are you sure?”_

_Wooyoung smiled in that bright way of his. Normally that smile had the power to melt away all of his worries within seconds, but today it did no such thing. If anything, it only made his heart heavier. “It’s a start, San. I’ve already received approval to go meet her.”_

_“T-that’s great, Wooyoung! I hope it really is her.” San slotted his hand over Wooyoung’s, offering subtle support. “You’re gonna have a bit of vacation away from training too. I’m so jealous!”_

_“I wouldn’t really call it a vacation,” Wooyoung replied, fingers of his other hand dancing along San’s wrist, “but it is a break!”_

_“Fair. Say, you wanna go grab dinner and we can talk more about it along the way?” He rose to his feet, giving Wooyoung’s hand a gentle tugged._

_His partner did so, stuffing the letter into the pocket of his jacket. “Sure! Maybe we’ll get lucky enough to snag some pizza before the older trainees!”_

_“Maybe!” San clutched his laptop tightly to his chest, feeling anxiety prickle at his toes. Unspoken fears spanned between them with enough length to match the Breach itself._

—————— xxx —————

San woke from the dream with a start, jerking back from Wooyoung’s side hard enough to send pain exploding through his neck. He groaned softly, rubbing at the tender muscle. His free hand sought out Wooyoung’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze that was more for his sake than the unconscious man lying next to him. The dream hadn’t been bad at all but something in it had triggered his fight or flight response. Deep down he knew, but San would never, ever admit it out loud, especially not to Wooyoung; his fear of losing the only thing worth protecting boiled within.

Burying his face in his hands, memories flooded through him like light exploding against your eyelids. Bright and hot, filled with laughter and sadness and above all, love.

San bit back tears and rose to his feet. He didn’t want to leave Wooyoung’s side but the need for fresh air overpowered him. He needed to be somewhere else, to clear his head and fight against the negative feelings threatening to destroy him from the inside out. Letting his partner’s hand slip free from his own, he forced himself to walk to the door, using the Marshal’s words as extra incentive. As the door to the medical wing slowly slid shut behind him, San allowed himself to sag against the wall. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes and silently wept, sobs racking his body.

Footsteps echoing down the hall were what forced him to calm down, San sniffling as he rubbed at his eyes. Clearing his throat, the leader of Aurora turned to greet whoever happened to be making a midnight visit to the medical wing. With such loud footsteps, he really shouldn’t have been surprised with who rounded the corner. 

It was Kim Youngjo, their main mechanic.

The mechanic wasn’t looking at him, his eyes trained upon something within his hand. His expression was dark and incredibly … _un-Youngjo-like._ Traces of oil and dust clung to his features and dried blood from an unbandaged cut sat just below his left eye. He looked as tired as San felt.

“Youngjo,” he called out, tone quiet.

Youngjo came to an abrupt halt, head snapping up. “Mr. Choi!” He threw a glance over his shoulder. “San,” he corrected, much quieter. “I’m surprised to see you out here.” If Youngjo noticed the puffy redness of San’s eyes, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, the mechanic closed the gap between them.

“Ah, yeah. More importantly, what are _you_ doing here. You practically live in the bay.” His attempt at a joke didn’t draw the laugh San was looking for and he bit his tongue in self-punishment. 

Youngjo glanced around again and San realized he was attempting to avoid someone overhearing their conversation. Upon realization, San tugged on Youngjo’s jacket and led him around the corner at the other end of the wall. It was a dead end hallway, the door at the end leading to a single storage closet. 

“Is something wrong?”

“Something’s very wrong,” Youngjo whispered, voice stern; his features held more seriousness than San had ever seen. “Look at this.”

San’s attention turned downward as Youngjo thrust his hand out. Held within his palm, twisted and dirty, sat a single screw. He stared at it in open silence, unsure what kind of reaction Youngjo hoped to provoke with such a thing. Luckily the mechanic caught on to that.

“I’m not trying to upset you, San, I promise. It’s just … I have a theory.” He held the screw out, pointing to a weird marking on the side. “I think … someone did this on purpose. I’ve only found three bolts, so my theory isn’t completely sound, but hear me out okay?”

San leaned back against the wall. “I’m all ears.”

“We use power drills to screw these in; they’re too stubborn to deal with manually, and they need to be tight enough to prevent wiggling loose. This marking though,” Youngjo continued, pointing at it, “this is from a wrench. Why would someone use a wrench and practically ruin their hands when there’s a whole room full of equipment meant just for this purpose?” Youngjo paused only a moment, taking a breath. “You wouldn’t! Unless you didn’t want people to hear you working.”

He extended a hand, palm up, and Youngjo set the bolt within the center. San lifted it to his face, examining the bolt. “You’re saying someone purposely tried to get us killed?” His voice carried uncertainty and anger mashed into one dangerous bundle.

“Think about it, San. We’ve known someone was tampering with the Jaegers for two weeks now,” Youngjo sighed, looking down at his feet. “But this is the first time someone has almost gotten killed. I’m sorry.”

San instinctively reached out, setting his hand upon Youngjo’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

Youngjo bit his lip but still refused to meet his eyes again. “I’ve been the head of maintenance ever since my mom died. It’s my job to look after the Jaegers and if I miss things like this, what good am I?”

“Don’t think like that,” San murmured. “These Jaegers are huge, and you’re one person. There’s no way you would’ve known.”

“But I should’ve!”

San shook his head, pulling Youngjo into a firm hug. The mechanic immediately curled into him, feeling so impossibly small in his arms. So easily did people forget that Youngjo hadn’t even been head of maintenance for a year yet. He was barely an adult, just like the rest of them. They were young with the fate of the whole world upon their shoulders, part of a well-oiled machine that often preached no room for failure or mistakes; he understood why the pressure got to them often.

“You’re not at fault, Youngjo, and no one is going to blame you. I promise.” He curled his fist around the broken bolt, feeling it cut into his palm; the resulting pain was the only thing that distracted him from the anger pulsing through his veins.

—————— xxx —————

_His grip tightened around the phone, San hearing it protest at the amount of force being exerted upon it. He pressed the ‘accept call’ button highlighted on the screen and raised the device to his ear, hesitant. “... Hello?”_

_An angry crackle greeted him, San wincing at the loudness of it. It fizzled into silence and San felt his heart sink, wondering if it had just been an accidental dial. But, as if sensing him about to hang up, a voice flooded through._

_“Sannie! I’m so happy to hear your voice!”_

_“Woo …” He sighed in relief. “Are you … alright?”_

_Wooyoung made a soft noise on the other end, the phone distorting what he assumed was meant to be comforting. “Yes, I’m fine.”_

_“The Seoul incident …”_

_“I know,” Wooyoung replied quietly, “I know. I’m fine. So is mom.”_

_“That’s a relief.” San clutched the phone with both hands, sinking to the floor as he fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill forth. “I was so worried this phone would never ring.”_

_Though Wooyoung laughed, it sounded hollow. “You don’t have a lot of faith in me.”_

_“You’re the size of a kaiju’s tooth; I don’t think it’s weird for me to be worried.” San used his desk to pull himself back up, going to sit upon his bed instead. His eyes affixed upon the empty one across the way, the sheets made nicely and completely untouched._

_“Listen to us, talking about such heavy things when we’re still kids,” Wooyoung whispered, tone heavy._

_“Kids don’t train to fight giant monsters,” San replied, equally low._

_The duo fell into silence, listening to the crackle of shitty phone service and their own quiet breathing. San felt bad for making the atmosphere so heavy, especially since this was the first time they’d spoken in nearly two months, but it was true. They had lost their childhood and their families to creatures they’d both had the unfortunate luck to see up close. He’d never met anyone unaffected by a kaiju being so close._

_“Hey … you’re coming back, right?” San suddenly blurted._

_Wooyoung didn’t answer at first and fear seized his heart._

_“Of course I am,” he finally replied, “we’re a team.” Someone yelled in the background of the call. “Listen, I have to go, but I promise I’m coming back, Sannie. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”_

_“Okay,” San answered softly. “Call me again soon, yeah?”_

_“I will.”_

_The sound of the call ending pulled a tired exhale from San’s lungs. He allowed himself to fall back against his mattress and cast his gaze upon the ceiling._

_His heart felt empty._

—————— xxx —————

San stared down at the tablet clutching tightly in his hands, the screen showing a silent expanse of the main control room. Several people milled about within, pouring over data and other information. He imagined Youngjo was in there somewhere, stood off to the side and discussing what they’d just discovered with the Marshal. Really, he had to be, considering the screen was on for an announcement about their findings. The Ranger straightened his back as the Marshal appeared front and center, expression grim; his arms were behind his back.

“Attention residents of the Shatterdome, a … dire matter has been brought to my attention. As we’re all aware, Candor Sunrise and her Rangers suffered a near-fatal incident two days prior. Early this evening, our head mechanic came across this.” San’s eyes narrowed as the bolt was presented before the screen. “A bolt, purposefully tampered with and the cause of Mr. Jung’s state. This is a threat to not only our safety, but to the safety of the entire world. Thus,” he paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in, “we will be implementing hourly patrols of the bay area. You are to report or apprehend any suspicious characters immediately.”

San placed his hand atop Wooyoung’s, staring at the screen with the sun’s intensity.

“Security personnel, report to your division leaders for more instructions. For the saboteur, this is a message for you; you will be found, you will be imprisoned, and you will be properly dealt with. Do not think you can manipulate my Shatterdome and get away with it.” The Marshal cleared his throat. “End of announcement.”

The screen went dark, leaving San to listen to nothing but Wooyoung’s quiet breaths. Turning his intense gaze upon the far wall, his resolve strengthened. “We’ll find them. I know we will, and they’ll pay for what they did to you.”

—————— xxx —————

_He curled ever further upon the bed, drawing his knees to his chest. Silence pressed heavily against his frame. Darkness hung like a curtain, the only light escaping into the room coming in the form of his laptop charger. San could barely make out the shape of his phone upon the sheets. It was barely an arms length away but it felt like the Breach yawned between him and the device. He’d been there for awhile now, simply staring at it, waiting for it to flood the room with sound. For now, it sat cold and still, a mockery of San’s own sorry state._

_He couldn’t remember the last time it had rang. He couldn’t remember the last time his room hadn’t been cold and dark either. It’d been close to two years since the last time Wooyoung had stepped foot within it, what few things he owned still sitting untouched and covered in a thin layer of dust. San found it strange, really, how the side belonging to the neat freak happened to be dirtier. Stranger, even, how one side of the room could be spotless while the other had felt the effects of time._

_San absolutely loathed it._

_It felt like Wooyoung had never existed in the first place. Really, he didn’t. He never called, never wrote, and San’s only indication that he was still alive came in the form of check-ins to the Marshal, not his own partner. He understood to a degree, he really did; Wooyoung’s mother had reappeared after years spent assuming her demise. But he couldn’t stop the pit in his stomach from growing deeper and deeper. They were supposed to be partners. They were supposed to grow up together. They were supposed to be Rangers. The greatest pilots who ever lived, Wooyoung had said once._

_Now the distance between them was more than just polluted ocean; it was in feelings too._

_San was no longer just any old pilot-in-training either. He was the son of Choi Hyunbin, arguably the greatest Mark-1 Ranger who was still alive to tell the tale. A hero, celebrated all around the world, and rightfully so. Choi Hyunbin, who had become Hong Kong’s new Marshal and subsequently had no time to spare for San anymore. San had countless partners vying for their spot as his co-pilot but he’d made a promise and, even if he would be the only one to keep it, he wouldn’t give in. San was loyal and, despite sadness burning him alive, he hadn’t given up hope._

_The sound of his phone ringing cut through the ambiance of the room, filling the room with glaring light. San’s arm shot out and snatched it up. It was from a number he didn’t recognize and he sighed, finger hovering over ‘decline.’ Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to press it. A strange need to answer surged through him, his mind yelling at him to answer. So, he listened._

_San accepted the call, pressing the phone against his ear. “I don’t know how you have the time for spam calls in the midst of the apocalypse, but I’m gonna need you to lose this number.” SIlence crackled upon the other end and San huffed in frustration. “List—”_

_“San?”_

_His eyes went wide, San scrambling to push himself upright. “W-wooyoung?”_

_“It’s me.” Wooyoung sounded tired, voice so much more mature than it had been the last time they’d spoken; he didn’t enjoy the way that unsettled his stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

_San should’ve been angry. He had the right to yell, to scream, to make accusations, but … he did none of that. He’d never been that kind of person. Instead, he sighed, tension draining out of his shoulders as weary muscles accepted momentary relief. “I miss you.”_

_“... You’re not gonna yell at me?”_

_“I should, but no,” San whispered, searching for words. He had so many and yet none at all. “You’ve been well, I hope?”_

_“As well as I can be, considering the state of the world.” Wooyoung paused, probably running his hand through his hair; San missed that little habit. “What about you?”_

_San stood up, reaching over to flick the light switch up. The shadows around him scurried into hiding, San squinting in the offending light. “I’m still alive. That counts for something.”_

_“I didn’t ask if you were alive,” Wooyoung said, tone soft, “I asked how you’ve been.” Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps._

_His heart sank lower. What was Wooyoung up to? Was he on the way to visit his mother? On the way to visit friends? To experience as normal of a life as anyone could get in this mess? Had he moved on … without San?_

_He had so many questions and no answers._

_San shrugged to himself. “I’ve been great,” he lied. While relieved Wooyoung had finally called, anger still nipped at his toes. “Training is going well. I’ve gotten really good with my punches.”_

_“Oh yeah? Hyun—the Marshal told me you haven’t been out of your room in weeks.”_

_His expression soured, San glaring at the door. He leaned against his desk as his heart sped up, sadness simmering in his veins. “So you found the time to chat with him but not your partner?”_

_“It’s not like th—”_

_“Really? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like,” San hissed, the pain he was feeling spilling through his voice uninhibited. “If you would’ve answered my calls or, I dunno, called me, you’d know I kept our promise.”_

_Silence followed his words and San slammed his fist against the desk, sending papers and pencils flying onto the floor. Had Wooyoung hung up? What did it matter? A phone call wasn’t going to magically fix things between them. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. They had grown up together. They were best friends. They shared dreams and goals. They were supposed to help save the world!_

_“Why did it end up like this?” San grit, throat tight._

_“San … I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called more, and that’s something I can only apologize for, but,” Wooyoung paused, taking a shaky breath; San realized he was crying. “I want to fix this. We can fix this.”_

_The tears won, rolling down his cheeks in hot and heavy streaks. They plinked against the desk and stained the wood below, forcing his vision to fall out of focus. “Two years, Wooyoung. Two damn years.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Do you know how many nights I waited up, wondering when you’d call?”_

_“I know.”_

_“How much sleep I lost?”_

_“I know, San. I know.”_

_“You don’t know!” He wailed, voice cracking. “You have no idea how long I stared at your empty bed, wondering when you were gonna be back, wondering if I’d ever see you again!”_

_“Now,” Wooyoung whispered, “it’s now.”_

_San scrubbed at his eyes, the sleeve of his sweater damp. “What?”_

_“Open the door, San.”_

_His attention snapped back to the door and time seemed to slow down. San crossed the room in two quick strides, banging his fingers upon the handle and gripping it so hard it was a miracle it didn’t snap off. The door was flung open without a moment of pause nor regard for the pain humming in his hand. All at once, his body went limp._

_Standing in the hallway, clutching a single bag in his hand, face littered with bandages, was Jung Wooyoung. He was no longer the short skinny boy that San had grown up with. His face had matured. He’d grown taller, and his eyes contained the proof of horrors that San could only imagine._

_Seeing him there, San realized—he’d been so caught up in his dream of becoming a superhero that he’d forgotten about the trauma Wooyoung had survived through._

_“S-surprise?” Wooyoung stuttered, arms raising in a weak shrug; his face was streaked with tears._

_His phone clattered to the floor. “How—what—why?”_

_Wooyoung’s expression softened and a hand extended his direction. “We promised, remember? I told you I’d come back,” he whispered. He spoke carefully, as if he were afraid San might run. “I know it’ll take awhile to get back to our, you know, normal but we can do it.”_

_San wiped at his eyes again before forgoing Wooyoung’s hand and throwing his arms around Wooyoung’s shoulders, clinging to him tightly. “I never doubted you,” he murmured. “Not once.”_

_Wooyoung returned the hug, holding him just as tightly. “I know.”_

_“Then you should get in here and unpack. I have a feeling we’ve got a lot of things to catch up on.”_

—————— xxx —————

San pressed his cheek into the sheets, exhaling forlornly. Exhaustion had finally reared its head, clawing at his body with a vengeance. A headache, borderline migraine at this point, had taken up residence deep within his skull as well, making even the smallest movements hurt. Still, he refused to leave. He refused to move until Wooyoung woke up again.

Another hour filled with nothing but beeping and breathing passed. San cast his gaze upon Wooyoung’s face. “I miss you,” he murmured. “I miss your laugh and your smile and even your nagging.” The words just spilled out of him. He was met with silence. So, he kept talking. “After not hearing your voice for two damn years, I realized how lonely it is without it. I don’t want to go back to our dorm. I don’t want to be there while it’s quiet and empty and I don’t know if you’ll come back again.”

The hand held so delicately within his own twitched. San’s eyes widened, gaze frantically running over Wooyoung’s face as he sat up straight. He blinked, wondering if he’d imagined it; he hadn’t. For the first time in days, Wooyoung’s fingers slowly curled into his own.

“I promised,” he whispered, voice hoarse and faint, “I promised I’d always come back.”

Relief flooded through him. The sound of Wooyoung’s voice was the best thing he’d heard all day. “I never doubted you, Woo. Never.”

“I know you didn’t.” Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered open but they were unfocused.

San reached over and plucked a glass of water from the nearby table and offered it to Wooyoung. “Drink this, okay? I’m gonna go find the doctor.” He went to stand but a gentle tug at his hand stopped him, Wooyoung fixing him with a stare that cut straight through him.

“Stay.”

The single word made fear crawl up his throat. He wasn’t sure why it scared him but it did. Something about Wooyoung’s tone seemed off, and his eyes looked hazy and unfocused—like he was out of balance. Like he wasn’t all there. “... Wooyoung?”

“I feel like … like I’m floating.” Wooyoung relaxed against the bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. “Nothing hurts. That’s bad, right?”

San parted his lips to speak, but promptly closed them as the head doctor stepped in to make her rounds. He watched surprise cross her face at Wooyoung’s wakefulness, crossing to the bed quickly. 

“D-dr. Pale, I was just about to come find you.”

“Good evening, Mr. Choi.” She nodded to Wooyoung. “When did he wake up?”

“Not even two minutes ago. He seems … really out of it.”

Dr. Pale stepped around the other side of the bed, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck. “Good evening, Mr. Jung. Glad to see you’re still with us.” She listened to his heart for a moment; Wooyoung didn’t answer her. In fact, he made no indication of even _seeing_ her. “Do you know who you are? Or _where_ you are?” 

Wooyoung didn’t move. He just kept staring at the ceiling. 

After a few moments of silence, the doctor motioned for San to follow. He pointed to the tight grip Wooyoung still had on him, Dr. Pale sighing softly.

“Alright then. At first glance, it appears Mr. Jung is suffering from head trauma. We’ll give him a bit of time to come to and then run some tests. He’ll be out of it until we determine what’s wrong with him.” The doctor seemed to sense his distress. She waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Choi. Him being awake right now is a good sign. Both of you suffered multiple injuries that night. You’ll need a little time to recover.”

“You think he’ll recover, doctor?” San asked, voice small.

Dr. Pale smiled but it carried no joy. “All of us know how strong Mr. Jung is, you most of all. He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

San nodded, and the doctor slipped out of the room to continue tending to the rest of her patients. The words were supposed to spark hope within his heart but San felt no such joy. 

He only found uncertainty as he observed Wooyoung’s far-off expression.

—————— xxx —————

_“Thus … I’ve made the decision to bestow leadership of Project Aurora upon Mr. Choi.”_

_San’s back went ramrod straight, schooling his expression into a blank slate as whispers exploded throughout the room. Words like favoritism and cheater were hissed in his direction, his fellow trainees coiling like snakes ready to strike, but he was unafraid. This was a moment he had worked his ass off for, his efforts to prove his worth finally coming to fruition. Even if those efforts were fueled by nothing but the need to show his father he wouldn’t just walk in his shadow._

_So, San took over Project Aurora, a program meant to bring together the damaged and the broken, those who had lost everything to the kaiju. People who were not afraid to throw their lives away to protect the world from the threat looming over all of them. No Drift was needed to show how their minds aligned for one goal and one goal only—to save the world and everyone in it._

_Even those who doubted them._

_Despite the angry glares in his direction, San rose to his feet. He held his head high, determination burning in his eyes._

_“My name is Choi San, son of Choi Hyunbin,” he began. “Some of you like me, some of you hate me. You can think whatever you want of me. None of that matters. We are in the middle of a war.” San paused, taking a breath. “We can’t afford to run away and hide. We’ve lost mothers, fathers, siblings, grandparents. The list goes on and on, and I know everyone in this room has lost someone they care about. So do this for them. Do this to become the very best Ranger you can be and, together, let’s destroy the kaiju for everything they’ve done to us.”_

_The room, despite the open hostility moments before, erupted into a series of cheers. Wooyoung giggled next to him, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. San smiled before his gaze focused forward again._

_At the opposite end of the room, arms behind his back, was the Marshal; his father. The smile on his face was proud and he nodded his approval at San’s words._

_No matter who hated him, who supported him, or who loved him, he would become someone worth being proud of. For himself, for his father, for everyone in this room. But most of all, for Jung Wooyoung._

—————— POV SWITCH —————

Sparring with Mingi carried a whole new degree of exhilaration. Mingi had the skills of a well-learned Fightmaster, his punches and kicks aimed and true. He didn’t hold back despite it only being training and, had Mingi and Yeosang not already been partners, would’ve most likely been the Ranger Seonghwa chose to co-pilot Cerulean Reverie with. Everything about the Aurora member was fluid and practiced, with a grace unmatched by anyone he’d ever fought against.

Their first session had been criminally short and a bit unsatisfying, so it was no surprise he immediately accepted Mingi’s offer to demonstrate some moves for the rest of the trainees. It offered a good distraction, both for himself and the rest of Aurora.

Seonghwa eyed Mingi from where he stood in the ring, listening to him ramble about weak spots on kaiju to look out for. The trainees around the room were focused on him intently, the respect for their teacher palpable. Strange, that someone who was barely an adult was already training people around the same age, some even younger, for a war they shouldn’t have to be fighting in the first place. They were only a year apart in age but it felt like Mingi had an infinite amount of experience compared to himself.

His eyes inevitably drifted over to Hongjoong, who was standing in the corner with an unreadable expression. Ever since the realization of their Drift Compatibility, he hadn’t been able to get Hongjoong out of his head. It didn’t help that he’d shown up for every sparring session since the incident, distracting Seonghwa so much that he’d even been forced to call yesterday morning’s session off.

“Alright then class,” Mingi suddenly said, bringing Seonghwa back into focus, “please pay attention to this next match.” Without pause, the other Ranger made a beeline right for him.

Seonghwa, knowing he wouldn’t be able to dodge, raised his arms to block. 

Mingi anticipated this and went low, driving his weight into his stomach. The action sent him stumbling back, Seonghwa coughing as he attempted to recover. He barely pushed himself out of the way of Mingi’s low kick.

Their fight spanned the course of six sets, Seonghwa winning two and Mingi winning four. This didn’t surprise him. What did surprise him, however, was how Hongjoong suddenly took over during the seventh set. He barely dodged the sudden punch thrown his direction, the shorter of the duo adding newfound energy into the mix whereas Seonghwa was already worn down.

“You have to be prepared for the factors in a fight to change at any moment,” Mingi called out. Seonghwa swung his leg out, catching Hongjoong in the hip and setting him off balance. “Adapting to these changes is important if you want to defeat a kaiju. You think they care that you can’t raise your arms or get out of the way in time?”

Hongjoong, despite being shorter, was the stronger of the pair. He curled his hands around Seonghwa’s wrists and swept his legs straight out from under him, sending him sprawling onto the mat below. The wind escaped his lungs in a mighty exhale.

“It will be hard, but navigating through those changes and learning to anticipate the tide of battle is what’s going to keep you alive.”

Mingi’s voice faded as Seonghwa refocused on Hongjoong’s satisfied smirk. The need to wipe it off his face overpowered him, Seonghwa yanking his arms over his own head hard enough to make Hongjoong stumble. The Ranger took advantage of the momentum from the movement to drag Hongjoong tumbling over his body. He did get a knee to the stomach but he didn’t care, the grip on his wrists breaking. Seonghwa scrambled up and hurried to pin Hongjoong to the floor by sitting on his legs, yanking his arms behind his back and holding them there.

“Match set,” he murmured, voice quiet enough that only Hongjoong could hear it. There was no mistaking the satisfaction dripping from it though.

Seonghwa let go of Hongjoong, rolling to his feet as Mingi finished his explanation. He fully expected Hongjoong’s expression to be sour but he was instead met with a look so calm it made his hair stand on end. 

“Class dismissed! Go eat lunch!” Mingi called out, the Fightmaster happily trotting over to join them. “That was fucking incredible you two,” he said. Though it was meant to be excited, Mingi’s face was scarily calm—unusual for him. “You need to try a simulation right now; there’s no denying that you’re Drift Compatible.” 

Hongjoong went to step away, but Yeosang setting a hand on his shoulder stopped him; he sighed. “Later.”

“There is no later,” Yeosang said, tone dangerous. “We’re currently down a Jaeger. Now is not the time to be stubborn, Hongjoong.”

Mingi crossed his arms, and Seonghwa glanced between everyone as the feeling in the room grew heavy. “You have to stop avoiding it, Hongjoong. Why did you sign up to become a Ranger when you knew you needed to Drift? Did you think you were just gonna pilot a Jaeger on your own?”

“No!” Hongjoong hissed, catching all three of them off guard. His mask of calm had been replaced by indignation and he yanked his shoulder away from Yeosang’s grasp. “I get it, I understand! I don’t need this damn lecture eight hundred times, okay? Especially not when the Marshal ripped me a new one the other night.” The last sentence was mumbled. Hongjoong’s attention refocused upon Seonghwa, the two of them staring each other down. “You’re gonna be the first person in my mind and God help you, if you spill any dirty secrets, I’ll … stick fish in your socks or something.”

Though it was supposed to be a threat, Seonghwa immediately burst into laughter. Yeosang and Mingi quickly followed and Hongjoong’s frown grew evermore.

“It’s not meant to be funny!”

“Yeah, yeah, fish in my socks. What’s the worst thing I’ll see? You drop your toothbrush in the toilet once?” Seonghwa teased.

“Whatever, asshole,” Hongjoong grumbled. “I’ll meet you in the simulation chamber.”

Seonghwa watched him go, shaking his head once Hongjoong was out the door. Then he looked to Mingi and Yeosang, the two of them breaking from their own staring contest to pay attention to him. “Well? Wanna go see baby’s first Drift?”

Mingi smacked a hand upon Seonghwa’s shoulder, laughing. “I knew there was a reason the Marshal chose you. Let’s go!”

“Well, it’s now or never I guess.” He took a deep breath and followed Hongjoong’s path. It was here that Seonghwa’s own fears began to creep in. Drifting had been a constant obstacle hovering before him for a long time, a necessary thing required to pilot a Jaeger. He had known he’d have to do it again for months now, but now that the time had arrived, he felt like his blood had run cold. Seonghwa hadn’t even Drifted with the training brain since losing Jehyun. But if Hongjoong was going to do it, then there was no way he could back down now. Especially not after the emotions that had passed between them during their sparring match.

Despite those thoughts, standing in the middle of the simulation chamber with dozens of eyes focused upon him made his stomach roil with queasiness. Hongjoong didn’t look much better, standing off to the right as he worked through various breathing exercises. For Seonghwa, he knew what to expect, but Hongjoong had never Drifted before. Were he to chase the rabbit, Seonghwa wouldn’t be surprised. Actually, he was kind of expecting it; maybe they all were.

He slipped his headset on, watching Hongjoong mirror him. Across the room, Mingi gave a thumbs up for reassurance. Seonghwa took a deep breath and looked back to the man next to him. 

“Ready. Just state your own readiness and we’ll initiate the Drift,” Seonghwa coaxed.

Hongjoong’s eyes simmered with determination and he took a deep breath, before shouting a _‘ready!’_ towards the operator. 

Henceforth, Seonghwa’s mind exploded into a mess of color and white-hot emotion. He wasn’t sure where to look or what to say, everything condensed into a giant ball of incomprehensible gibberish. Words were being spoken, memories flowing through him, and a life that wasn’t his own coiled around his body and squeezed.

Despite everyone thinking Hongjoong would be the one to chase the rabbit, it ended up being Seonghwa.

Images of Hongjoong stumbling upon documents detailing illicit activities flooded his mind’s eyes. He watched the young boy find keys to an underground laboratory. He watched him uncover a whole network of illegal tech for human experimentation with the kaiju. He felt the anger and sadness and so many other things brush against his mind, leaving a bitter taste upon his tongue. He felt guilt and shame and resentment wrap around his heart as Hongjoong confronted his parents, the two of them calling him ungrateful and unwanted. The memories lasted only a span of two seconds, but it felt like a lifetime, Seonghwa glancing into the private world of Hongjoong’s life and all he had experienced. 

Until, finally, it landed upon a final memory.

Hongjoong, staring across the open ocean, eyes angry and determined. His hands were shoved deeply into his pockets and a feeling of newfound resolve hummed in Seonghwa’s veins. “I will correct the Kim name, you’ll see. I’ll make it a name worth being proud of.”

All at once, the memories tore their claws out of him. Seonghwa took a huge gulp of air, gasping as he fought the intensity of the emotions flowing through him. He looked to Hongjoong, the two of them locking eyes in unison; the Drift was successful.

“Holy shit …” The distant voice caught their attention, the two of them turning in sync to look at the operator. Mingi and Yeosang were next to her, staring down at the computer screen. They glanced up as the two Rangers allowed their breathing to fall into a single unified pace. “This is the strongest Neural Handshake I’ve ever seen.”

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa ate dinner alone that night, tucked into the far corner of the cafeteria. Ate wasn’t quite the right word. Rather, he simply picked at his food and only managed to get partially through his banana. He hadn’t felt the same since Drifting with Hongjoong earlier that day. Hongjoong had put him off balance and kept him that way. Seonghwa felt like he understood him now. It all made sense. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t rude, he wasn’t unfriendly; he was just determined. 

But he was also scared, and Seonghwa related with that feeling more than anyone would ever know. 

So, one could imagine his surprise when the source of his distressed state entered the cafeteria and set a course straight for him. Even from afar, Seonghwa could tell he wasn’t feeling the greatest either. Hongjoong’s pace slowed the closer he got to the table, his feet coming to a complete halt a mere two steps away. The Ranger scratched the back of his neck, avoiding meeting Seonghwa’s eyes.

“You mind if I, uh, join you?”

“Uh …” Seonghwa motioned to the empty bench. “Go for it.”

He sank into the offered seat, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. The atmosphere around the pair felt heavy too. Not unfriendly, just … out of place.

Hongjoong placed his hands upon the table, curling his fingers together; he didn’t look up. “I want … I want to apologize,” he grumbled, voice quiet.

“What for?” He questioned, but he already knew.

“For being such an ass to you when you got here. I felt it.” Hongjoong suddenly looked up, catching Seonghwa’s wide eyes and shocked expression. “I felt all of it. When … when you lost him, and I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s shoulders went slack and he slowly set down his banana. “Don’t apologize, Hongjoong. I’ve heard enough sorrys to last me a lifetime,” he laughed, but the sound was awkward.

“Still … But, I get it now. I understand.” Hongjoong pressed the back of his right hand into the table, palm angled towards the ceiling. “Drifting is a two way street. It’s not just me sharing my memories and emotions. I get to experience yours too. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

“Really Hongjoong, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.” Their gazes locked once more and Seonghwa recalled those words—I’ll make it a name worth being proud of.

“I’ve known from the moment they contacted you that Cerulean Reverie was no longer mine. So,” and Hongjoong’s eyes gained the same intensity Seonghwa had seen in their Drift, “I want to make this work. I want to become a Ranger worthy of your partnership. WIll you train with me?”

A memory of Jehyun flooded through his mind, Hongjoong a mirror image of him, insisting they could save the world together. Jehyun and Hongjoong were more similar than Seonghwa had ever thought they’d be.

Swallowing the nerves clawing up his throat, Seonghwa nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—————— POV SWITCH —————

“What a mess,” Youngjo mumbled, sifting through miscellaneous parts and pieces scattered all over the inside of Candor Sunrise’s head. He had been working tirelessly the last two days to get the Jaeger back into working order, as well as investigating further into what had caused the near-fatal accident. Sturdy metal cables didn’t just snap, especially not with a Jaeger as new as Candor. 

The bolt had presented a whole new set of hair-raising suspicions since its discovery. Youngjo had no idea who could’ve done it. Everyone had access to Candor Sunrise. To all the Jaegers really. Who would mess with their only chance at survival? That’s what Youngjo hoped to determine.

This was the first time he’d been back in Candor since the announcement. It was quiet within the Jaeger’s massive head, the feeling eerie. It was strange standing in a place that had almost become the final resting place of two of his closest friends. 

Youngjo sighed as he picked up his flashlight and shined it through the massive structure. He shined it upon the spot Wooyoung had landed and felt his heart squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. The blood stain still remained, dried and old upon the floor; he felt queasy. “I’ll have to get someone up here to clean that soon,” he whispered, the shadows drawing back from his flashlight beam as he carefully navigated the debris.

The mechanic stopped when he reached Wooyoung’s station, placing a hand upon the metal. Cables dangled limply from the ceiling, some of them gnarled and angry. He’d replaced a large majority of them already, but the ones that remained glared hauntingly back at him. As he moved the beam of light around the site of the accident, he spotted something that hadn’t been there before.

Youngjo squinted at it, moving around to observe San’s station.

Within an instant, he felt his blood run cold.

Clipped to a frayed cable, displayed like an Olympic medal, was a piece of shredded cloth. Bloody writing took up most of the surface but there was no mistaking it. Right in the center, half torn and obscured by bloody words, was Polar Four’s emblem.

**Author's Note:**

> ( static noises )
> 
> follow me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) for more nonsense (18+ pls!)


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